

ABONDgT^OD 

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UBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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Class 

Book 






Copyright 


COPYRIGHT DEPOSrr. 







JliSSl-: TIIAXTON. 


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CAIN 

OR, THE 

VAGABOND OF NOD 

BY 

JESSE B. THAXTON 



IBroabniag 

(Jlmnpaag, ^nrfe 


LIBRARY of CONGRESS 
Two CoDics Received 

UAN 13 1906 

• CoDyrizht Entry 
/ 6 ‘. 

xxc. No. 


'class 
y 3 


3 4 0 9 3 

COPY B. 


< ' 

^ ; /■ 


Copyright, 1905# 


BY 


JESSE B. THAXTON. 


All Rights Reserved. 


CAIN. 

BOOK L 


CHAPTER 1. 

''But thou. 

If thou shouldst never see my face again. 

Pray for my soul. More things are wrought hy 
prayer 

Than this world dreams of. 

Wherefore, let thy voice rise like a fountain, 
for me, night and day.** 

— Tennyson. 

Silence ! A stillness intense, which one might 
think would never end. Every wandering echo 
was asleep; and on the summer air no breeze dis- 
turbed the perfect tranquillity that brooded over 
the beautiful valley of the Cumberland. Even 
the song-bird’s melody was lulled to sleep in the 
heavy, sultry air. 

When God fashioned the perfect garden of 
Eden, and forbade the intrusion of sin; when He 
caused a deep sleep to fall upon Adam, there in 
that wonderful moment of Creation’s most beauti- 


2 


CAIN. 


ful conception — ^that of woman — there was no 
silence more intense than that which slumbered 
on the bosom of the Cumberland. The margin of 
this beautiful river was lined with pebble-banks 
and fringed with great luxurious clusters of honey- 
suckles. Beyond these, stretched like a great 
verdant canvas, was the broad-meadowed valley, 
bedecked with daisies and clover blossoms. One 
beholding the beautiful valley is at once reminded 
of the flowery meads of Sicily. 

In the distance stretched the woodland foliage, 
dim and purplish, — the proudest boast of sylvan 
production. The tall oaks and poplars seemed to 
be trying to tower in majesty above each other; 
and, up there, among their uppermost foliage, a 
faint breeze was stirring. The brilliant sun, ap- 
parently taking advantage of the opportunity, 
gilded the crimped silvery sides of the upturned 
leaves and painted everything else with similar 
hues. The transmuting hand of the legendary 
Midas had touched all things around, and con- 
verted them into gold. 

There was a little brook that stole its way from 
under a ledge of rocks hidden away in a dense 
wild- wood east of the river and wound its mean- 
dering course through the rocks and rapids near 
its source, then unrolled itself, like a silver ribbon, 
across the narrow plain, penetrating the foliage 
of ferns and overlapping honeysuckles, till at last 
it found itself lost in the body of the Cumberland. 
All was a wonderful, dreamful existence ; and 
under the soothing power of Morpheus in the 
beauty of that summer afternoon, like an ever- 
lasting and ever-sleeping somnipathist. 


CAIN. 


3 


A slender girl, twelve years old, stood under the 
shade of a large, beautiful apple-tree, by the 
trembling, rippling brook, dabbling in the clear 
water with a broken reed. She had been sitting 
there, reading her New Testament, and fatu- 
itously lifted her eyes to the brook, when she no- 
ticed two little fish swimming near the surface of 
the clear pool. With a suppressed and smothered 
cry of delight, she threw her Testament upon the 
grass, and, enjoining silence by placing her finger 
upon her lips, went cautiously near the water’s 
edge. At her approach they darted away and 
vanished. She stood for some moments gazing 
across the grain-fields toward the south, while 
she splashed the water with her reed. 

In her beautiful brown eyes there was a fascina- 
tion. There lurked in their mild, sparkling depths 
a singularly charmful pensiveness, mingled with 
tender love and childish happiness; the flexible 
red lips stood listlessly apart, and there was a 
mutiable expression on their gracefully curved 
lines of perfection ; while the full, polished, 
classical forehead, with its noble excellency, could 
not fail to engender in the mind and heart of the 
ordinary observer as well as of the skilled 
physiognomist, a vision of her beautiful face which 
could never be forgotten. Her hair was of a 
beautiful chestnut hue, the beauty of which was 
increased by the few tiny waves intermingled in 
the tresses which hung around her shoulders. 

She stooped down, and with her little hands 
dipped what water they would hold, and quickly 
showered the cold drops upon her head, laughing 
gleefully as the little streamlets trickled down 


4 


CAIN. 


over the white roses with which she had crowned 
her beautiful hair. As she laughed, her parted 
lips revealed perfect teeth which gleamed like 
rare pearls between the flexible red lips. The 
music of her laughter was like a stray chant of 
an Orphean lyre — so powerful was its fragment 
of melody. 

She wore a sleeveless dress made of pink dim- 
ity, and a little bodice in it served to show her 
soft white throat and to admit the cool breezes. 
She wore a string of diamond beads set with bits 
of pearl and polished opals, about her neck. She 
had a peculiarly fanciful desire to wear this 
costly necklace, because of its singular signiflcance 
relating to her earlier history. 

Her merry laugh at her baptismal performance 
had brought a rosy tint upon her pretty face, and 
long after the water had ceased dripping from her 
glistening hair, the smile was still gleaming in 
her eyes and on her cheeks. 

A few steps in advance of her, stood a large 
white albatross, which seemed in his grandeur to 
outrival the beauty of his kind and as if he 
would feign scorn his fellow sea-creatures. 

In the strange stillness and solemn beauty of 
this summer late afternoon, the girl seemed to 
have forgotten herself entirely; but, as she lin- 
gered, the sun lowered his regal self near the 
horizon and paused, seemingly, as if to hear the 
faint requiem which had begun to murmur among 
the chestnuts and oaks and poplars, then dropped 
behind the horizon, and left the scene for twi- 
light’s gentle display. At last the hired-man’s 
homeward singing, across the glen where he had 


CAIN. 


5 


labored all day, admonished her that the day had 
given place to a charming twilight ; and she 
heaved a long-drawn sigh, as if just aroused from 
a short sleep. She advanced one step toward 
home, when she caught the pageant glory of the 
calm evening, and stopped to look at it. The 
beautiful albatross waddled along the path ahead 
of her. He was her dearest friend and playmate, 
and his graceful bearing showed that he had been 
trained and fondled. As he walked on slowly, he 
tossed his regal head proudly, as if he were proud 
of his majesty, Eoyal King Felix. 

While the girl beheld the beautiful scene about 
her, she smiled as if her soul were gratified. She 
knew nothing of the strifes and struggles and 
hardships of the outside world. To her all was a 
tranquil dream of love and peace. Her young 
heart was as guileless as the spirit of an angel, 
and she stood drinking in the charm of that peace- 
ful twilight with a heart full of innocence and joy. 
She was nature’s child, and loved the babbling 
brooks, the gentle breezes, the singing birds, the 
beautiful flowers, her friend, Eoyal King Felix, 
and those who cared for her. 

She stooped to pick up her book which she 
had left upon the grass under the apple-tree; 
and suddenly thought of a passage of Scripture 
which she had just read from the Prophecy of 
Jeremiah before she left home, and rising in all 
her childish majesty, she stretched her dimpled, 
snow-white hands and arms over her head, and 
repeated with gravity and eloquence: — 

‘The young lions roared upon him, and yelled, 
and they made his lands waste. . . . How 


6 


CAIN. 


beautiful upon the land are the feet of him that 
bringeth good tidings, that publisheth peace; 
. . . . that sayeth unto Zion, Thy God 

reigneth/ 

These words of divine inspiration had become 
indelibly written upon her memory; and who 
knew what good they were destined to do some 
day? 

She walked on up the daisy-lined pathway, 
banging on her knees as she walked the tin 
bucket in which she had been carrying water to 
the laboring man whose homeward song had 
caused her to realize that the day had lain down 
to sleep, — and the prophecy burst once more from 
her lips: — 

“ ^The young lions roared upon him, and 
yelled, and they made his lands waste.’ ” 

Mamie Homean was an orphan girl, who only 
vaguely remembered her mother, and who had 
entirely forgotten her father, so early in life had 
she lost them. She was found by Mr. Homean 
one day, drifting about in a boat near the shore of 
Nova Scotia. He rescued her and brought her to 
his home on the Cumberland river. No one knew 
her identity. She was a lost child upon the mercies 
of the world, and her only vigil was the God for 
whose great kingdom she worked and pleaded 
years afterward. 

When Mr. Homean found her, she was so weak 
from excessive hunger that she could scarcely 
speak. Being a child of only three years she 
could never tell them who her parents were. 

Mr. Homean’s mansion was some ten or twelve 
miles from Nashville; and, being hidden away in 


CAIN. 


7 


a dense forest near the river, made a fit location 
for a hermitage. The mansion was a beautiful 
edifice of brick; and, at each corner, exquisite, 
luxuriant creepers embellished the building with 
their coiling tendrils. The yard and house were 
amply shaded by the finest specimens of the 
sugar-tree. A clear, sparkling spring gushed out 
from the bluff south of the house. From the 
eminence upon which the mansion stood, one could 
see the beautiful Cumberland river. The loca- 
tion was magnificent. Babylon, with all her 
boasted opulence and fortifications and luxury 
before the Medo-Persian invasion and conquest, 
could not have offered a palace more desirable 
than the Homean mansion with all its luxuries 
of peace and tranquillity. There was no one living 
near it for miles around, and a visit from a neigh- 
bor was a very rare event in the daily routine of 
the home. Therefore the child grew up without 
the advantage of any associates or playmates. Her 
time was almost entirely occupied in studying the 
lessons which Mrs. Homean assigned her, and 
she, as a natural consequence, became a close, 
thoughtful student. From the time she first 
crossed Mr. Homean’s threshold she had dis- 
played a great taste for books and literature in 
general ; and Mr. Homean spared no little time and 
money in procuring the proper literature for her. 
It was too far away to send the young child to 
school, therefore Mrs. Homean became her faith- 
ful governess, teaching her the truths of the re- 
ligion of the Christ which had been inculcated 
into her pure little soul by that mother whom she 
had not altogether forgotten. After her lessons 


8 


CAIN. 


were recited, she was allowed to go out among the 
birds and flowers, and seek such pleasures and 
amusements as her childish notions would dictate. 
To her childish nature, every gentle breeze was a 
breath of inspiration ; every bird-song was a famil- 
iar voice, to which she often responded with a 
merry laugh; and every beautiful flower was a 
poem of love. She spent hours wading up and 
down the brook and in building dams to catch the 
water in a deeper pool that her faithful friend. 
Royal King Felix, might have a pond to swim in. 
She constructed flutter-mills along the brook, 
and built little ships and boats and floated them 
about over the water. During her earlier years 
Mr. Homean would carry her to his woodshop, 
place her on the shavings and give her a little 
primer that she might spell and read and look at 
the pictures while he toiled away at his work- 
bench. When this failed to interest her, she 
would gather up the bits of sawed blocks 
and build playhouses out under the poplar-tree 
that stood in front of the shop. 

Mr. Homean was a very wealthy man, yet he 
had always been a laboring man, working as a 
carpenter. He boasted of his brawny muscles 
and strong, healthy body, and excessively indulged 
the fanatical opinion that he who obtained his daily 
subsistence other than by daily labor was not 
sincerely honest. His father had died when the 
son was only sixteen years of age, leaving him the 
only heir of the valuable homestead on which he 
continued to live, and to a legacy of several mil- 
lion dollars, which he carefully preserved, claim- 
ing that it was no part of his honest earnings. He 


CAIN. 


9 


was a man sixty years old, and had accumulated 
a handsome sum of money at his trade, — this he 
called his own. 

Mrs. Homean had been a woman of society; 
but when she married Mr. Homean, she became his 
faithful and devoted companion, isolating herself 
entirely from the social circles of Nashville, and 
choosing to share the love of her kind husband 
in his hermitage home. 

They had had no children; and when Mamie 
Homean was brought into their home, they 
lavished excessive affection upon her. She was 
the idol of their hearts. Therefore, being the only 
child in that neighborhood, and being constantly 
associated with old and thoughtful people, is it 
any wonder that she grew up to be such a thought- 
ful, earnest child, almost prematurely? 

Mr. Homean’s library was amply furnished 
with the purest selections of literature, to which, 
of course, Mamie had free access. 

And now, when we begin our story of her, at 
the age of twelve, we find her with a pure heart, 
full of love for nature, love for books, an earnest 
piety and deep religious enthusiasm, the noblest 
traits of a young soul left to wander over the 
rugged highways of life with the only pilot of 
Truth to guide her, which principles she imbibed 
from the pages of the purest literature. From her 
early childhood she had been inspired with a pe- 
culiar ambition by the words of the Saviour in his 
Sermon on the Mount, ^‘Let your light so shine 
that men may see your good works, and glorify 
your Father which is in heaven.” It was this 
which filled her heart with such a wonderful re- 


10 


CAIN. 


ligious enthusiasm, which in after years brought 
forth fruit in abundance. It was this that pic- 
tured to her youthful mind the holy conception 
of a beautiful world whose people did glorify the 
Father which is in heaven, and where all was love 
and peace and happiness. And not until the fatal 
hour when she saw horrors of murder and sui- 
cide, did she know that her race was pollutted with 
such blackness of sin. This was the first mad 
wave to sweep over her shell-built palace of peace 
and fidelity and wash it away. This was the first 
key that opened life’s great mystery ; and she heard 
the first knell of a shattered and dying confidence. 
And it is no wonder that Mamie Homean was 
shocked and horrified at the sight of what is a 
common occurrence in the conventional world — 
Murder and Suicide! 


GAIN. 


11 


CHAPTER II. 

Just twelve miles from Nashville stood Mr. 
Homean's mansion, shaded with a beautiful grove 
of sugar-trees, the finest production of Cumber- 
land mountain. Only one solitary road led past 
his house, about a quarter of a mile away. 

His woodshop was an amply furnished estab- 
lishment, where he worked day after day, making 
fancy doors, window-sashes, furniture, etc. There 
was only one workman who helped him in his 
shop, his name being Alton Tolliver. 

Alton Tolliver was a Nashville ^^dude’’ who had 
come to Mr. Homean’s workshop just a few weeks 
before our story begins, and had applied for ap- 
prenticeship under Mr. Homean, who willingly 
and cordially granted him the place. Just why 
this young man had chosen to leave the society 
and varied amusements of city life to take up an 
occupation of daily labor in a lonely, secluded 
country workshop is hard to say. 

Alton Tolliver had chanced that way one after- 
noon on his bicycle. He had lost his way, and 
had stopped at the woodshop to inquire his way 
back to Nashville and to rest and cool a moment. 
While there, little Mamie Homean came to the 
shop, carrying a bucket of water to Mr. Homean, 


OKI IS . 


Her face was slightly flushed by the exercise, add- 
ing greatly to her loveliness as she stood with child- 
ish innocence regarding the stranger with his bi- 
cycle. Once he smiled, and she quickly averted 
her gaze and a fain expression of contempt flitted 
across her face; it was a strange, doubtful smile. 
She saw something in those eyes that she could 
not trust. She did not tarry long at the shop, 
but hurried back to the house. The boy passed on 
after he had rested ; but it was some lovely charm 
in the beautiful face of the child that caused him 
to come back afterward and apply for the ap- 
prenticeship. To his disappointment, she always 
managed to stay at home until Alton had gone to 
his boarding-place, then she would join Mr. Ho- 
mean and stay with him till twilight began to 
steal over the land, then take him home, where a 
delicious supper always awaited him. 

Mamie was out among the flowers, wading the 
dewy grass. Mr. Homean had left his pipe and 
tobacco, and Mamie had brought it to him and 
was on her way home. On this particular morn- 
ing Alton had been detained and was later getting 
off to his work than usual, and, besides, he had 
chosen to come another route than the usual one. 
On his way he chanced to meet Mamie, who was 
gathering flowers alone the path. 

‘^Good morning. Miss Homean,” he bowed, and 
saluted her. 

'^Good morning,” she responded briefly, and 
turned away toward the shop. 

“I would be pleased to walk with you. Miss 
Homean ?” 


CAIN. 13 

"1 choose to be alone, thank you.” She walked 
on faster. 

'^But here, child,” he insisted, ^Tiere is some- 
thing valuable for you.” 

She turned her head to see what it was, and 
he held up a beautiful gold band. 

is yours if you will accept it.” 

She stopped and held out her hand, but kept 
her eyes toward the ground. He slipped the ring 
on her finger, then clasped the little white hand in 
his so tightly that she almost cried out from the 
pain. 

‘^Now, may I walk with you?” 

“I beg your pardon, sir. I am not accustomed 
to walk with strangers. And why have you given 
me this ring? It is very beautiful.” 

is a token of my respect for you, and ” 

‘^Regard for me?” and she repeated it half to 
herself as she looked down at the ring. 

He lifted his hat and started away. 

She remembered his face years afterward. It 
was a face with a strange, doubtful expression on 
it. The keen black eyes gave a magnetic hint of 
something like a dangerous spirit and warned one 
not to trifle with it. The fiendish smile that 
sometimes lurked in them always repelled and 
chilled the spirit, and Mamie shuddered with a 
sense of foreboding danger when she caught a 
glimpse of his visage. 

She walked on toward her home. Accustomed 
to ramble alone through the woods, she walked 
leisurely along the cool, shady woods-road, now 
and then inhaling the fragrance of the beautiful 
flowers which she had gathered, and pausing oc- 


14 


CAIN. 


casionally to watch the mocking-birds as they 
would perch upon the branches over her head and 
trill their grand morning hymn. The unbroken 
calm of that beautiful morning, the cool, still 
atmosphere and the tranquil sunshine filled her 
pure, guileless soul with a rapture of divine in- 
spiration, and she began to sing: 

**0, the morning, happy morning, 

That will break on the other shore. 
When the march of life is ended. 

And our harvest work is o^er!** 

Before she could finish the song, the clatter of 
horses’ hoofs and the rattle of carriage wheels 
broke tl ' melody of her hymn, and she looked 
back as a rough voice shouted impatiently: 

^^Look out there, kid, or a horse’s hoof will 
crush your head !” 

The driver cheeked his beautiful span of iron- 
grays till the child could get out of the way; then 
a kinder voice spoke to her: 

^‘Good morning.” 

‘^Good morning,” she responded, and glancing 
up she saw a tall, strong man, well dressed, de- 
scending from the carriage. He lifted his hat and 
smiled pleasantly. He took a little china mug 
from the driver’s hand, and took a drink from the 
little spring near by. 

^‘How far yet to Mr. Homean’s house?” in- 
quired the driver of the gentleman. 
r ^About a quarter of a mile,” was the gentle 
answer. Then turning to the girl, he asked : 

'Are they well to-day — I mean Mr. and Mrs. 
Homean ?” 


CAIN 


15 


'‘Yes sir, they are well.” 

“What is your name, please?” 

“Mamie Homean.” 

He glanced at the driver, and said as he smiled, 
“I told you so;” and turning to the child he said 
so tenderly that she never forgot it: 

“Yes, that is your name, God bless you; and 
some time you will not only know my name, but 
you will know meT 

He lifted his hat and climbed back into the car- 
riage, bidding the driver to drive on. When they 
disappeared behind the clump of trees which stood 
near a bend of the road, Mamie found herself 
gazing earnestly and steadfastly after the car- 
riage. The flowers had dropped from her listless 
hands, and a strange, wistful expression lingered 
about the parted crimson lips and the big, brown 
eyes in whose tender depths could be seen the mir- 
rored beauty of a passionate, sensitive, but earnest 
soul. Something had awakened in her dreaming 
heart and faintly stirred, and a restless look stole 
over her countenance as she sighed and stooped 
to pick up the flowers and started home. She 
pondered in her mind why the gentleman had 
seemed so interested in Mr. and Mrs. Homean; 
why he had said that she would not only know his 
name some day, but that she would know him ; 
who he was. He was so handsome and so pleas- 
ant. 

When she came in sight of the house, she saw 
the carriage and horses standing at the fence. 
Something startled her, and she stood still. Her 
heart fluttered, and a pleasant sensation, mingled 
with dread, touched her heart. While she hesi- 


16 


CAIN. 


tated, she heard a voice calling her from the 
house, and glancing up, she saw Mrs. Homean 
standing at the yard gate, beckoning her to come 
on. Then she hurried on, skipping and twirling 
along the smooth, hard pathway. When she 
reached the gate, she saw that there was a happy 
smile upon Mrs. Homean’s face, and that a few 
stray tears lingered among the blushes on her 
cheeks. 

^^Why, mamma, you have been crying!’^ said 
Mamie, as Mrs. Homean folded her in her arms 
and kissed her. 

^^Hush, child; I have cause to cry. Leland has 
come home to visit us. Oh, I am so glad ! He is 
in the drawing-room, waiting to meet you.” 

Mrs. Homean led the child into the drawing- 
room, and Leland Burnett rose as they entered. 

Mr. Burnett bowed with demure grace over the 
little hand that was placed in his, and a radiant 
smile sparkled mischievously in his eyes as he sa- 
luted her. There was a brief silence, and their 
eyes drank in the beauty which each saw in the 
other’s eyes. Down through all the ages of time, 
these supreme moments of silence have been cher- 
ished as the sweetest, ineffable golden moments of 
delight. They are the moments when the celestial 
seraph of Love knocks at the door of the heart 
and awakens a dormant, noble passion; startles 
the sensitive, quiescent soul; inflicts a painless 
wound, then pours in the oil of ardent passion, 
and enters and proclaims himself king! 

Leland was an orphan also. He had been taken 
from the streets of Nashville, a poor, ragged news- 
paper boy, by Mr. Homean, and brought to the 


CAIN 


17 


Homean mansion, where he fonnd a beautiful 
home. He was now a tall, strong, handsome young 
man, with black hair, which curling in glossy clus- 
ters about his temples showed his massive fore- 
head with exquisite charm. His features were 
fair, almost effeminate, and his passionate black 
eyes seemed to be flashing jewels set in the face 
of an alabaster statue. They flashed a wonderful 
magnetic power when they turned upon any one 
with a sudden sweeping gaze. They were full of 
passion of the deepest and noblest sort, and when 
they smiled, they revealed the fact of his wonder- 
ful intellect. His lips were expressive of firmness 
of character, and they would always remain 
closed, except when he was talking or laughing, 
when they would disclose a regular line of beauti- 
ful white teeth. Mr. Homean had kept him in 
school every year since he had become an inmate 
of the home. He entered school in Nashville at 
the age of eleven, and in a few years prepared him- 
self to enter the Vanderbilt University, where he 
had completed the theological course a short time 
before he came home to visit those to whom all his 
success as a brilliant scholar was and should be 
attributed — Mr. and Mrs. Homean. He had done 
well at the University, and had received the high- 
est honors. This was his flrst visit home in sev- 
eral years, for during the vacations the student 
traveled in the east for recreation, therefore he and 
Mamie had never before seen each other. But 
Mamie had often heard Mr. and Mrs. Homean 
speak of the orphan boy whom they had rescued 
from the jaws of ignorance and poverty, and had 
brought up to live a purer, nobler, more ambitious 


18 


CAIN. 


life; and she had imbibed a deep, warm, but se- 
cret sympathy for the dear unknown orphan boy. 
She had longed to see him; and when, at last, 
she realized that he had indeed come home, the 
surprise was almost too great for her. Leland 
had longed to see the beautiful child ever since 
he had first heard that she was living with his 
foster-parents. He loved all things and everybody 
that were good, and very special had been his af- 
fection for this child of whom he had read so 
many lovely things. Mrs. Homean had said that 
she was noble, gentle and intelligent. 

In the afternoon Mamie escorted Mr. Burnett 
down to the little spring where they had first met, 
and there they rested and talked a long time. The 
evening was serene, and they were pleased to talk 
about it; the birds were joyful, and they were mer- 
ry with them; when they looked toward heaven 
they saw Love smiling upon them; when they 
looked into each other’s eyes, they were filled with 
rapture to see Love smiling there also. The while 
that they were there was the supreme hour when 
the rapture of two souls blended into one heavenly 
song and sang their first song of love. In the 
ecstasy of that little hour of romance, they forgot 
that they started to the woodshop to greet Mr. 
Homean; and Mamie, at length realizing the 
fact, suggested that they should be going. 

The sun had wandered near the horizon, and 
the road was cool and shady. Mrs. Homean over- 
took them just before they reached the shop. She 
had been running, and was very much exhausted. 
The exercise had fiushed her face till it looked 
like the blushing face of a maiden; and when 


CAIN. 19 

Mamie suddenly looked around, she laughed and 
exclaimed : 

“Why, just look at mamma’s face, Leland ! It 
looks, I imagine, like Rachel’s did when Jacob 
kissed her.” 

Leland laughed heartily. 

“Ah, children,” said Mrs. Homean, mischiev- 
ously, as she held out a basket of big ripe straw- 
berries, “do you think my Jacob will kiss me 
when I give him these ?” 

“0, mamma ! would a kiss from our lips pur- 
chase that basket and its contents ? If so, we will 
shower your face over with kisses !” 

“Wait till we reach the shop ; then we will serve 
an evening repast in honor of the good ^Carpen- 
ter.’ ” 

There was a happy re-union when the good old 
carpenter met Leland. It was a delightful event 
after his day’s hard work to meet one so dear, 
one who had been gone so long, one who shared 
his sincere confidence and highest esteem. 

Late that afternoon, or rather, that evening, 
they all rested under the shade of the large poplar 
tree and ate strawberries and laughed and talked 
till twilight began to wrap its maze of dusk about 
the hills and valleys and forests. A new moon 
did its best to dispel the approaching darkness, 
and the vast universe of stars yielded forth a fee- 
ble yet sufficient light to make the way agreeably 
visible for them. A whippoorwill sang his mourn- 
ful song down among the honeysuckles near the 
river. The evening was so still and ^fionesome” 
that to the morose character it would be dreary in- 


20 


CAIN. 


deed ; but to the four who walked in its cool calm, 
it was very pleasant. 

As day after day passed, Leland became more 
and more delighted with the novelty of spending 
his vacation in the country, free from the ever- 
lastingly obnoxious whirl and din of a sultry city, 
and at peace with God. Many days did Mamie 
and Leland spend fishing along the fishing 
streams; then they would go out driving in the 
late afternoons; or sit in the cool, shady grove, 
and read and talk. Leland’s presence in the home 
made Mamie’s heart glad and served to break the 
monotony of a companionless life. She became 
greatly interested in his happiness. Her every 
thought was for him. Each morning she rose 
early, and was out among the flowers, clipping 
the dewy roses to make a beautiful bouquet; and 
when Burnett came to the breakfast table he al- 
ways found the exquisite bouquet by his plate. 
From the very first time they met at the little 
spring, there had been engendering in their hearts 
a wonderfully strange attachment for each other; 
and day after day, as they were constantly asso- 
ciated together, this attachment grew stronger; 
and almost unconsciously Leland began to love 
the beautiful child-girl with an ardency that was 
wonderful to realize. 

For weeks all was quiet, and not one event aside 
from the ordinary occurred. A peaceful calm 
brooded over the land. But one night near the 
dreary hour of midnight, Burnett had not yet de- 
sisted from his theological studies, he heard a 
knocking at his door. He rose to open the door. 


CAIN. 


21 


and there stood Mr. Homean with a cautious cun- 
ning smile in his dark gray eyes. 

‘^Come in, sir,” said Leland, and Mr. Homean 
put out his hand to enjoin silence; then he quietly 
stepped in. He was careful to fasten the door 
securely; then he sat down and began in a low, 
cautious tone: 

^‘Leland, you are now twenty-one years of age. 
Since you have been under my care and super- 
vision, you have been a most trustworthy and obe- 
dient boy. I have loved you, I believe, more than 
any father could love a child of his own; and 
doubtless you will not be with me much longer, 
which fact pains me very much. But we all have 
to succumb to the inevitable. Your integrity is 
beyond question. I know you feel greatly in- 
debted to me for my kindness in lifting you from 
a lowly life of poverty, but you owe me nothing 
but to love me as you always have done; and, be- 
sides, your goodness, your success at college, and, 
above all, your obedience as a dutiful child, has 
sufficed to pay a thousand times over the debt 
which you doubtless feel under obligation to pay. 

“Now your age entitles you to your share in the 
estate which I possess. I shall now equally divide 
my capital between you and the child Mamie ; and 
you shall share equally in the possession of this 
homestead. It shall belong to you both at the 
death of my wife and me. But this legacy is a 
very small gift compared to the great blessing 
which I have conferred upon you by educating 
you both, and successfully teaching you the re- 
ligion of our Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, and 
to love Him because He first loved us, This, I 


22 


CAIN. 


say, is the greatest of all blessings; and I am so 
happy to-night with the fact that my efforts have 
not been wholly in vain.” 

Burnett’s eyes shone with tears as he clasped 
the hand of his benefactor, saying in a fervent 
tone: 

‘‘Indeed, it has proved a blessing to me. I shall 
never be able to repay the debt of gratitude I owe 
you.” 

“Don’t mention it,” put in Mr. Homean. “I 
want you to come with me, and I will reveal to 
you what I have long kept a secret. Follow me.” 

They rose quietly and passed out through the 
corridor till they came to a shrouded chamber at 
the rear, where Mr. Homean stopped suddenly. 
Igniting a match, he passed in, followed by Ice- 
land, and lighted a lamp. Among the many cu- 
riosities and beautiful vase-casket and books, there 
was a beautiful ebony casket, embellished with 
touches of silver and ivory. Mr. Homean took up 
this pretty shrine from among the others, and 
touched a secret spring, when it opened with a 
dull click. It was in this that he kept his money. 
He proceeded to count out the money which he 
proposed to will to the orphans. When he had 
completed he remarked: 

“There is my legacy, which shall henceforth be 
yours and Mamie’s.” 

“But why should you give it to me?” said Le- 
land, surprised. “I do not deserve it, and ” 

“Hush, hush !” commanded Mr. Homean, stern- 
ly. “You have no right to hesitate. You must 
take it and use it for the cause of Christ. By 
proper management you can accomplish much 


CAIN. 


23 


witli it, my son. Now follow me, and this night’s 
errand shall be finished.” 

He closed the casket, replaced it among the 
others, and led the way. They left the house and 
walked quietly down to the shop. There was a 
tall man standing under the large poplar-tree. 
Mr. Homean addressed him as ^'Colonel,” and 
asked if all things were in readiness. The man 
answered ^^Yes,” and drew from his pocket a copy 
of the will which gave Leland Burnett and Mamie 
Homean possession of the legacy and made them 
heirs of the Homean estate. Mr. Homean signed 
the will in the presence of two witnesses — distant 
neighbors. The legal form was completed, and 
they all dispersed. 

That night Leland Burnett could not go to 
sleep. It had been a strange, eventful night for 
him. He was the possessor of a fortune and guard- 
ian of Mamie Homean. The latter seemed to be 
a great responsibility devolving upon him. It was 
a great blessing with a great responsibility at- 
tached to it. He thanked God for the blessing, 
and prayed that he might be equal to the responsi- 
bility. How rapidly he had come from poverty 
and ignorance to wealth and learning. Why had 
he thus been favored? Yet he was humble. His 
highest conception of his insignificant being was 
that he was only a mere floating atom cast out 
upon the tempest-tossed sea of humanity. He 
was a mere being constituting only an infinitesi- 
mal part of the great human vortex. Ah, how 
well he remembered when he was a poor boy cast 
out upon the cold charity of a cruel people. 

It was just before day began to dawn when 


24 


CAIN. 


Leland closed his eyes; then, as he took his last 
dreamy look through the curtains of his window 
at the pale moon which had crept down among 
the trees, he uttered these strange words: 

^^Mamie — Mamie — the orphan — my orphan — 
my love!” 

He sighed deeply and fell asleep. 


CAIN. 


26 


CHAPTEK III. 

It was several weeks after the night on which 
the will was made that Leland and Mamie walked 
down to the little spring. It was a pleasant even- 
ing, and the breezes stirred among the leaves and 
blossoms which laded them with their fragrance 
as they passed. 

They took their seats upon a bench near by, to 
get a breath. Mamie laid a bouquet of pansies 
in his hand, and smiled with a lovely air of satis- 
faction as she did so. But she noticed a frown 
darken in his face for a moment, then pass entirely 
away. She was troubled, and looked another way, 
sighing heavily. 

‘‘Flowers are full of tender passion; they love 
me. They will not wilt in my hands as quickly 
as they will in yours ! Why, Leland 

‘T suppose it is because you love them. Such 
pure love as your pure heart possesses is enough 
to sustain any poor, broken flower.” 

Her child-like simplicity did not comprehend 
his meaning. She laughed a short, mirthful 
laugh, and responded: 

“That is surely a compliment for me. Many 
thanks.” 

There was a silence for several minutes, during 


26 CAIN. 

which Burnett looked meditatively into the clear 
spring as if some serious thought had taken pos- 
session of him. Then he looked up at Mamie, 
with a strange, tender look in his eyes, and asked : 
'‘Who gave you that ring on your finger ^ 

'T promised not to tell.’^ 

"Oh, that will not matter; you can tell me. 
Surely you can trust me.’’ 

She looked up at him, her big, brown innocent 
eyes full of consternation. 

"Why, how could you mean that?” 

He did not answer her, but looked at her with 
his keen glance of criticism, while a troubled look 
flashed in his black eyes. Mamie regarded him 
curiously, then asked: 

"Leland, would you dare to think such dissimu- 
lation justifiable?” 

He looked at her with tears in his eyes, and 
grasped her hand so tightly that it pained her. 
He did not answer, but a tremor swept across his 
lips, and a groan escaped them. Mamie became 
a little bit frightened, and, endeavoring to release 
her hand, said: 

"Leland, you are ill; let us be going home.” 

"Yes, I am ill, — strangely ill. I may never re- 
cover from it, though I may live to a good old 
age. Perhaps some day you will know the nature 
of my illness.” 

They did not see the glare of two jealous eyes 
looking through the leaves and branches at them. 
It was Alton Tolliver, who had left the shop, and 
was on his way home, when he heard them talk- 
ing and had hidden himself to watch and to lis- 
ten. 


CAIN. 


27 


Mamie nervously twisted the ring on her fin- 
ger, but said nothing. She could not trust herself 
to look at Burnett. She felt that his keen, intel- 
ligent, magnetic eyes could read every secret of 
her heart. After a long pause she spoke : 

^^When do you think you will begin to preach?” 

“The first of the coming year.” 

“Do you rejoice in the hope of the salvation 
which you will preach?” 

“Yes, I do, very much.” 

“I imagine one who studies God’s Word, and 
preaches it, never grows weary of life.” 

“Ah, child ! Your fancy blinds you. There is 
no life without shadows darkening its way. There 
are times in life when one loses confidence in all 
things, and hates existence. It is when that va- 
cancy in the yearning heart fails to be filled with 
the heart’s satisfaction.” 

“You are weary sometimes, then?” 

“Yes, indeed !” 

She sighed heavily, and was silent again; then 
she spoke with a tender, sorrowful tone which 
echoed in the dreary solitudes of Burnett’s heart 
with a melody that he never forgot: 

“Perhaps you are right about life. I don’t 
know. Let’s go home; it is getting late.” 

They rose and went on their way home. Ma- 
mie had weighed his words in her mind; and, in 
spite of her, she began to feel that “vacancy” of 
which he had spoken. Life ! What was it after 
all? Would she find it all a base fatuity, as he 
had intimated? 

They reached the house, and after supper all 
retired to their respective rooms. 


2S 


CAIN. 


The moon silvered the foliage of the trees and 
painted a beautiful dream over all the still valle^^ 
of the Cumberland. Its cold, cheerless light fell 
over the woodland like a magnetic touch of 
Morpheus, and the silence of night fell 
upon the sombre scene. Just one solitary cricket 
clanked his tinkling cymbals together, and with 
an occasional croaking of a tree-frog made a dis- 
cordant duet. The distant murmur of the water 
dashing against the shore fell now and then upon 
the night’s stillness. 

Burnett had retired, but he had not slept, for 
the face of the child, Mamie, haunted his waking 
hours. Its sweet, innocent and beautiful expres- 
sion touched the tenderest chords of his heart. 
But she was just a child ; why did he care for one 
so young? Yes, why this mortal passion, Love? 
Let this question be answ^ered, and the mystery is 
solved. He tossed his weary head about, and 
looked out through the window of his room. By 
this time the moon had long since climbed its 
weariless course toward the zenith, and was show- 
ering its soft smile of light upon the slumbering 
hills and meadows and blinking dewdrops. Great 
fleecy clouds lingered, like suspended myriads of 
pearls, beneath it, and the gentle breeze chanted 
a melody of ‘^good-night.” 

He rose from his bed, lighted his lamp, and 
seated himself by the open window, where the noc- 
turnal breezes wafted vigor and refreshment to 
him. While he sat there, he heard footsteps on 
the terrace below, and leaning far out, he saw 
the figure of a woman moving slowly and cau- 
tiously down the path toward the shop. The fig- 


CAIN. 


29 


ure was wrapt in a shawl, but Burnett failed to 
recognize her. Some strange impulse of intuition 
or telepathy touched his heart, and he descended 
noiselessly from his room into the corridor, then 
down the path in pursuit of the figure he had seen 
from his window. Once upon the road he stopped 
to look and listen. He saw far down the moon- 
light road the object of his attention, moving 
leisurely along. He quickened his steps until 
he was very near her. He was careful to keep 
within the shadows and to make no noise. 

At length she reached" the little spring, and 
looked all about her, as if she felt the presence of 
some one. She shook her head with an air of 
satisfaction, and knelt beside the bench near by, 
and began to talk to herself: 

^^Here is where I first met him; here is where 
his smiles touched my heart; here is where his 
sweet voice told me that I would know him some 
day.'’^ She hushed a moment, then began: 
have come out here to pray for him. It may be 
wrong to love him, but it isn’t wrong to pray for 
him. But do I love him? Surely not, for I am 
just a child. I know nothing of love; but I will 
pray for him.” 

And she bowed her head upon her hand. 

She lifted her glorious, inspired face toward 
heaven and the light of the stars and the moon 
fell around about her. Burnett, who had been 
listening, could not restrain himself longer, and he 
sprang forward and clasped the child to his 
bosom. He pressed a kiss upon the sweet, parted 
lips; he looked down into her eyes, which were 
gazing full into his, and for some minutes ^fiove 


30 


CAIN. 


looked love to love’^ through the joylit realm of 
holiest affections where each precious soul touched 
together on ‘dimpid waves of ecstatic feeling.” 
Again he strained her to his heart, and while she 
hid her face against his shoulder, she heard him 
say as if in a dream: 

^^My darling! My darling! My only hope in 
the world ! May God keep you thus pure and in- 
nocent throughout the beautiful springtime of 
your tender life. Mamie, I love you! May God 
give you to me in heaven !” 

He pressed one kiss upon her face, then put her 
from him. There was a strange agony burning 
in his eyes as he stood there for a moment looking 
at her; and she saw, as the bright moonlight fell 
full upon him, his despairing face. He took her 
little hand in his, pressed it tightly, and, bowing 
over it, he said in a mournful tone : 

‘^Farewell, Mamie ; I am going — going 

He said no more, but sprang past her, and she 
saw with bewildered eyes his form disappear be- 
yond the wood-lane. She saw him no more. But 
with a pitiful, smothered cry, she hid her face in 
her hands and wept. 

Advancing one step, she shook back her hair, 
pressed her fingers to her throbbing temples, and 
stood listening to the murmur of the rippling 
brook, — to the short, startling plaint of a lonely 
dove nestled among the green leaves in some dis- 
tant tree; and, as if death had touched her with 
its icy hand, her face grew paler and her nerves 
weak and faint. She struggled, weak, and sick, 
toward home. When she reached her room, she 
fell helpless and unconscious. Mrs. Homean heard 


CAIN. 


31 


the noise, and hurried to see what it was. When 
she reached the room, she found the child pros- 
trate on the floor. She called loudly for Mr. Ho- 
mean and Leland. The former came to her aid. 
They placed Mamie on the little bed, and bathed 
her forehead and face with cold water. But it was 
some time before she returned to consciousness; 
then she began weeping, and hid her face against 
her pillow, while her whole body shook with con- 
vulsive sobs. As the night wore away, she revived 
very much; and when morning broke over the 
land with a glorious dawn, she managed to rise 
from her bed and walk out to the gate. 

She was standing there at the gate, looking at 
the band of happy birds gathering in the trees, 
when suddenly her eyes fell upon an envelope ly- 
ing on the gate-post, addressed to her. She seized 
it eagerly, but scarcely dared open it, as she 
dreaded knowing its contents. However, with 
trembling fingers she tore open the sealed missive, 
drew out the folded sheet and read: 

Dear Mamie: 

When you will have read this, I shall have gone 
away to roam over the great world. Tell Mr. and 
Mrs. Homean to be contented with my absence, 
and not to doubt me because of my sudden depar- 
ture, for it was absolutely necessary that I depart 
when I did. I shall come back to see you all some 
day. Until then, may God’s richest benedictions 
rest upon you all, is the prayer of one who loves 
you all. Most atfectionately, 


Leland. 


32 


CAIN 


Mamie’s fingers spasmodically clutched the pa- 
per. She staggered forward, leaned her head 
against the gate, and wept with bitterest grief. 
How long she stood there she knew not; but she 
was finally aroused by Mrs. Homean, who touched 
her on the arm, and, somewhat alarmed, asked: 
^^What is the matter, Mamie?” 

Mamie looked up sadly, and, with a bitter 
smile, she handed the letter to Mrs. Homean, 
saying : 

found it on the gate-post — read for your- 
self.” 

Mrs. Homean took it and read it. While she 
read, a shadow of pain flitted across her face and 
a tremor passed across her lips. When she fin- 
ished, she threw it aside, and gathered the child 
in her arms. 

^^Oh, child, why did he go away? But how can 
you tell? Oh, he has gone away from me!” 

Mamie quickly hid her face against Mrs. Ho- 
mean’s bosom, for she felt that the good woman 
could read her very thoughts. “Ah, yes,” she 
thought, “I could tell you why he went away.” 

Poor Mrs. Homean’s heart was broken. Leland 
had gone and how strangely. He had gone away 
without a good by, and this made her heart 
bleed. 

It was several weeks after Burnett left before 
Mamie resumed her studies, then for hours she 
could be found in the library poring over the pages 
of Grecian lore, and rapidly grasping the prin- 
ciples of more modern literature. The desire 
to become a scholar of deep erudition like the 
Scaligers had seized her with an unalterable de- 


CAIN. 


33 


termination. The study of the Christian Ortho- 
doxy, of the faith of Brahmanism, of Asiatic Bud- 
dhism and of ancient Paganism, together with that 
of Greek and Eoman Mythology, constituted her 
curriculum of studies. These engendered a last- 
ing impression in the child’s memory, and kindled 
her ambition to a still greater zeal. She compared 
the Christian Faith to the inconsistencies of these 
heathen doctrines; and, as she observed the great 
depravity between them, she resolved to exert her 
every effort in her future life to thwart the evils 
of Paganism and to establish the Faith as it is 
in Christ. 

Mamie was more inclined to roam through the 
woods and over the fields alone than ever before. 
She took long strolls, and sometimes stayed very 
late. Mrs. Homean had noticed this and talked to 
Mr. Homean about it, but he declared that to al- 
low the child the freedom of her own childish 
fancies was the wisest plan; that she was sensi- 
tive; to which Mrs. Homean would reply that she 
should be left alone to indulge her own desires as 
far as was reasonable. 

During the latter part of September, there were 
a series of beautiful cloudless days and calm, se- 
rene moonlight nights. The intense summer heat 
had moderated very much, but the sweet flowers 
had not yet disappeared, and the sweet-voiced 
birds lingered among the trees and vines in great 
coveys as if planning for their annual excursion 
south when winter at last came. It was the pause 
that always seems to intervene between summer 
and autumn, before any change takes place. The 
hand of nature had ceased to work, as it were, 


34 


CAIN. 


and all nature seemed to lull in peaceful repose 
during the lapse of quietude and idleness. 

One of these quiet, sunny days, in the calm af- 
ternoon, Mamie chose to take a stroll down the 
river and gather flowers. When she had kissed 
her foster-mother, she started away. Once on her 
way she looked back and threw a kiss at Mrs. Ho- 
mean, who was sitting in a large rocking-chair 
on the porch. 

‘^Good-by, mamma she exclaimed with a 
laugh. “I may not come back soon.^^ 

^‘Of course I am very much afraid my little 
girl will stay away,’^ and Mrs. Homean laughed 
as she said these words. 

Mamie bounded away on her way in search of 
her favorite pansies, waving her petty white bon- 
net at Mr. Homean, who was at work in the gar- 
den. 

Once she looked back before disappearing and 
saw Mr. and Mrs. Homean sitting close together. 
A tender touch of love stirred fervently in her 
pure heart for them. She thought seriously of 
her words, ^^Good-by,” which she had expressed to 
Mrs. Homean jestingly. Placing her small hand 
over her little heart, she sighed heavily and passed 
on. She had not walked very far past the shop 
when a carriage came dashing up the road. It 
stopped just as she meant to pass, and a voice, 
gruff and impatient, exclaimed : 

^^Ho, there, kid!’^ 

Whereupon the child stopped. 

^^Where is Mr. and Mrs. Homean?” asked the 
gruff voice again. 

^‘They are at home, sir.” 


CAIN 


35 


"Is any one else there 

"Drive on he commanded with a laugh, and 
the carriage drove toward Mr. Homean’s house, 
leaving Mamie wdth a puzzled expression ot, her 
face. Little did she know of what would occur 
during the next hour, w’hile she would be ab- 
sent. She stood there for only a moment, then 
banishing from her mind every serious thought 
about the mysterious carriage, she bounded otf into 
the woods with childish gayety. 

The shadow’s that always gather at twilight now 
gathered in the forest and enveloped the faraway 
chain of mountains in their mystic maze. As she 
plunged deeper into the forest she began to sing 
in order to drive away the strange, lonely sensa- 
tion that falls upon one at the approach of dark- 
ness. The echoes rang out a weird, hollow-like 
chorus upon the evening stillness. She would 
pause now and then to listen to the receding 
echoes; then, when the deep silence had hushed 
them forever, she w’ould resume her song. 

At last she had roamed over a large portion of 
the river valley and had gathered a large, pretty 
bunch of flowers; then she started home. She 
sang lowly and sweetly along the way. As she ap- 
proached the house, merrily singing her twilight 
song, the moon rose full and round and cast its 
soft effulgence over the porch where she had last 
seen Mrs. Homean. 

"They have retired very early, surely,” she 
thought in whisper, then with an innocent, child- 
ish smile, continued: "But never mind, I will 
surprise them with a pretty bouquet apiece!” 


36 


CAIN. 


She opened the gate and passed in, but as she 
was about to ascend the steps, she drew back 
suddenly and threw up her hands in astonishment. 
There before her on the floor lay the form of 
Mrs. Homean, still as death. The child leaned 
forward eagerly and called almost in a whisper: 

“Mamma, dear, why are you sleeping out here 
on the floor 

She received no answer, and moving a little 
closer, she put her hand upon the shoulder of the 
prostrate woman, and shaking her, called a little 
louder : 

“Wake up, mamma, it is growing late, and it is 
chilly out here.” 

Still there was no answer and the child, slightly 
alarmed, stooped, and, placing her hand upon the 
woman^s face and looking closely into her eyes, 
started back in terror The glassy eyes stared at 
her through the moonlight; the white face was 
cold ; and the stiff fingers clutched a broken knife. 
She was dead! Mamie fell upon her knees and 
touched her lips to the cold, white face and 
grasped the cold, blood-stained hands. 

“Mamma ! Wake up ! Oh, you are so cold and 
stiff. 0, Mamma! You have gone to sleep for- 
ever ! 0, my God ! My God !” 

The child screamed despairingly; the terrible 
cry rent the still night air and reverberated with 
a shriek from the resonant forest. For hours she 
sat mute as a grim spectre in the dreary moon- 
light, with her hands clasped before her and with 
her eyes fixed with a hard, stony gaze upon the 
dead woman on the floor. No tears bedimmed the 
eyes ; the shock was too terrible. The flowers that 


CAIN. 


37 


she had gathered had fallen upon the floor; and, 
as she occasionally glanced down upon them and 
thought of the momentary joy she had anticipated 
in giving them to her kind friends, a bitter, 
mocking smile darkened in her eyes and over her 
brow and curled her petulant lips. She looked 
at them with disdain, and reproached them bit- 
terly, for it seemed that they had proven false at 
this hour of need. At other times they had been 
her truest friends and had always been a source 
of great joy to her; but now they seemed to have 
deserted her. 

She thought of her earthly loss, but her heart 
could not grasp the thought of death. It puzzled 
her. It was this strange death that had robbed 
her of her precious foster-mother. No more could 
she claim the warm, pitying love of that precious 
mother. God had always loved her; but she had 
always cherished that love because it came 
through the heart of that woman on the floor. 

She at last rose and walked through the corri- 
dor in search of Mr. Homean. She searched ev- 
erywhere, but nowhere could he be found. She 
called loudly several times, but no voice answered 
her call. Her voice sounded through the silent 
rooms with startling echoes. The child felt a 
cold chill creep over her body, and she shuddered 
as she retraced her way back to the place where 
she had been keeping vigil over the dead. There 
she took her seat again and waited and watched 
through all that dreary night of agony! 


38 


CAIN. 


CHAPTER IV. 

At last the dreary night passed ; and a glorious 
morning was dawning over the eastern hills, 
plains and woodlands. The songs of the happy 
birds mingled with the breezes ^ and ten thousand 
times ten thousand sunbeams streamed over the 
tranquil world. Everything seemed to ignore the 
tragedy of death hovering over the Homean man- 
sion. But Mamie sat still as a statue, mute and 
desolate, while the sunshine threw a flood of light 
over the porch where she sat. All the night long 
she had been thinking and reasoning. Although 
the shock was terrible, she yet retained her reason. 
Her meditations had terminated in the conclu- 
sion that all the world, and even God, had turned 
away from her, leaving her friendless, hopeless 
and utterly desolate. Why should she take her 
troubles to God, since He had cursed her inno- 
ceney ? Why should she pray at all, since He had 
taken away from her all that she had in this 
world? All the pure, childish love seemed to be 
dying in her wounded, benumbed heart. A bitter 
rebellion was hardening her heart when she re- 
membered that God had allowed her to taste the 
cup of joy one minute when she contemplated the 
pretty plan of surprising her friends with the 


CAIN. 


39 


pretty flowers, then had the next minute hurled 
His eternal curse of terrible disappointment and 
still more awful grief upon her, and then had 
turned bitterly away. She had anticipated a 
glorious future, when she would be able to accom- 
plish a great work, and to repay Mr. and Mrs. 
Homean for their love and kindness in educating 
her and in giving her a happy home; but now to 
her the world was desolate and life empty an(i 
blank. The future contained not a ray of hope 
for her. In her heart every noble aspiration had 
died, and ambition was no more. She might have 
cried out for the house to fall upon her and hide 
her from existence; for she was friendless, home- 
less and ruined forever! 

While she was sitting there, a constant vigil, 
watching the cold, stiff form of the dead, she did 
not see the approaching form of Alton Tolliver 
as he quietly opened the gate and came up the 
path. Her fixed gaze upon the dead woman, and 
her state of deepest oblivion, rendered her abso- 
lutely listless and indifferent to everything. 
When Alton touched her and spoke, she only 
lifted her sad, feverish eyes to look blankly at 
him. It was several minutes before he managed 
to arouse her; then she only sighed, and a deep 
moan of anguish issued from her trembling lips. 
There was an appealing look in her eyes. She 
extended her hands toward him as she rose, hope- 
lessly resigned to fate, and seeking in almost ut- 
ter despair some help, some consolation, some al- 
leviation of her misery and distress. He took her 
in his arms and strained her to his heart, while his 
tears fell thick and fast over her pale, sad face. 


40 


CAIN. 


His heart ached for her, and yet the joy of hold- 
ing her in his arms was the most supreme felicity 
that he had ever had or would ever have again. 
He felt that it might be the last time, so he held 
her in his strong embrace for several minutes, 
then put her from him. He looked down upon the 
cold, prostrate form upon the floor, and a fiend- 
ish frown darkened his brow and eyes, and he 
clenched his fingers in a kind of frenzy. At last 
Mamie burst into violent weeping, and, falling 
upon her knees, she bowed over her dead foster- 
mother. 

^^0 God, what have I done so wicked, so cal- 
lous, to incur Thy wrath upon me? I have loved 
and served Thee as only a poor, orphan girl can ; 
and oh, why hast Thou cursed instead of blessed 
me ?” 

The words went up with a bitter wailing cry 
of deepest anguish. Alton turned away to hide 
the bitter, scowling visage that writhed upon his 
face, and his body shook with a quick shudder 
caused by a sudden horror of conscience; then he 
turned to Mamie, and lifting her from the floor, 
said : 

^^You must come away, Mamie. I shall take 
you to my home in Nashville. In the meantime 
I will notify the neighbors of Mrs. Homean’s 
death.^’ 

He started on, supporting the child upon his 
arm; but she made some efforts to turn back, cry- 
ing: 

‘^Oh, I can never leave her !” 

But he led her on to his buggy and lifted her 
into it, then drove away ; and as he passed a neigh- 


CAIN. 


41 


bor’s house, he informed them of the death of Mrs. 
Homean. He carried Mamie on to his home in 
Nashville. 

The neighbors reverently buried the body of 
Mrs. Homean in the cemetery near Nashville. 
Mamie was allowed to attend the funeral, but so 
terrible was the grief that had overcome her that 
she was unconscious for weeks afterward. But 
finally she recovered from all this, and endeavored 
as best she could to be resigned to the sad lot that 
had fallen to her. But her grief lingered with her 
day after day; and a fixed, pensive look over- 
shadowed her beautiful face, and very often tears 
could be seen in her eyes and a pitiful moan 
would fiit across her lips. 

She never went back to the old home, though, 
with a pained heart, she often thought of it, and 
fancied its desolate, gloomy loveliness. She fan- 
cied that she could see the dilapidated fences and 
the decaying shop. Mr. Homean had mysteri- 
ously disappeared, and all was left to go to ruin. 
She had lost her beautiful albatross, and she was 
still more friendless. Alton was her constant 
companion, and he tried in his peculiar way to 
make her happy; but somehow there was a ‘^va- 
cancy^^ in her heart that he could never fill. She 
longed for a sweeter consolation and for a more 
trusting companionship. Mrs. Tolliver was good 
and kind to her, but there was too much vanity 
about her. Mamie had instinctively read the 
character of Mrs. Tolliver to be haughty and am- 
bitious. Mrs. Tolliver was sufficiently kind, but 
not altogether a congenial, warm-hearted com- 
panion. 


42 


CAIN. 


Mrs. Tolliver was, indeed, one of those ^Tiigh- 
minded” women whose credulity led her to believe 
that Mamie was, and never could be more than, 
a common, coarse country girl ; and therefore 
never became as intimate with the child as she 
would have with what she would have called a 
more refined charge. She failed to notice the 
noble traits of the child. 

Mamie tried to conceal her aversion for society. 
She always managed, if she could, to remain at 
home as much as possible. She preferred the com- 
pany of books to all worldly amusements, and she 
loved the society of flowers and birds better than 
the cruel, treacherous tyranny of merciless human- 
ity. 

It was a pretty, bright day in January, and 
Mamie was sitting in her little room before the 
fire, reading ^'Ben Hur.” She had finished a chap- 
ter, and had closed the book listlessly, and begun 
thinking over her eventful, unfortunate life. She 
felt lonely and friendless. She had no mother to 
love her, no home she could call her own, no 
friend that she could trust. As she sat there, 
thinking of her hard lot, tears began to steal 
slowly through the closed eyelids and to trickle 
down over her wan cheeks. She wept for an hour, 
and at last her poor heart felt relief. She looked 
out upon the sunshine that fell upon the smooth 
front yard and over the barren trees like a golden 
mantle. It looked pleasant out there, but she 
shivered as the north wind would whistle around 
the house. Just so it had been when the sun- 
shine of happiness had brooded over the innocent 
soul; ere it began to cherish and appreciate the 


CAIN. 


43 


seemingly surrounding felicities, the chilling 
blasts of cruel society and sneering criticism were 
chilling that soul and making desolate and bleak 
that poor heart. 

As she casually looked out upon the effulgent 
scene, she quickly caught sight of two gentlemen 
coming hurriedly up the street. They were 
wrapped to the tips of their ears in snug overcoats. 
She knew that one of them was Alton Tolliver, 
but she could not readily recognize the other 
gentleman. Something, too, seemed to recall to 
her his apparently familiar walk ; but she shook 
her head dubiously, sayiing, ‘‘No, it cannot be 
he.^^ 

They disappeared around the corner of the 
block, and she turned her face toward the grate 
with a heavy sigh. She pressed her fingers to her 
eyes, and fell into meditation again. 

But she was soon again aroused, this time by 
the tramp of feet and the clatter of voices in the 
corridor. She opened her big, brown eyes in 
speechless wonder, and listened with an anxious 
expression on her countenance. The voices were 
familiar. The voice that sounded in her ears with 
such sweet, familiar tones was the voice of Leland 
Burnett. For one brief moment, she felt the brief 
felicity of a sweet anticipation; but her heart 
soon sank with humility when she thought of 
how he would look upon her with a kind of neces- 
sary contempt when he knew of her dependence 
and embarrassing circumstances. She dreaded 
the magnetic scrutiny of his fine eyes. She deter- 
mined not to endure his reproachful gaze. She 
was poor, but she was proud and defiant. 


44 


CAIN. 


As she sat there, her brain was in a whirl with 
rapidly-forming resolutions ; and quickly there 
had matured in her mind a very rigid determi- 
nation to escape from that place before he could see 
her, and to depart to some place where she would 
never be heard of again. She heard the gentle- 
men go into the reception-room and take their 
seats before the fire. It would perhaps be late in 
the afternoon before he would meet her, there- 
fore she would have plenty of time to make her 
escape. 

But an intense longing to see his handsome 
face seized her. She would see him once before 
she went away. She rose from her chair and 
glided noiselessly across the room and out through 
the corridor, and paused just behind a silken 
drapery and listened. She could hear his voice, 
and with only a step or two she could put her 
hand upon him. She looked through the parted 
draperies at his handsome figure, and the mo- 
mentary bliss which always tantalizes the hungry 
heart under such circumstances took possession 
of her. Then, when she realized that perhaps 
this was the last time she should ever see him, 
she clasped her little hands before her and wrung 
them in terrible anguish, while the hot, bitter tears 
flowed from her beautiful eyes in unutterable 
agony. A tremor passed her beautiful lips, and 
almost inaudibly came the words from her trem- 
bling lips: 

“0 my God ! Sustain me \” 

Her heart was stubborn and sullen, while her 
reason said that it was best to go away. After 
a moment’s struggle with her passionate heart, she 


CAIN. 45 

turned abruptly away and hurried back to her 
room. 

Hurriedly putting on her winter wraps, and 
veiling her face from the bitter winds, she pro- 
cured her little money-purse, which contained a 
few bills and some pieces of silver, and was ready 
to go. But she sat down and waited a while 
longer; why? Ah, who can answer more correctly 
than to say that it was the obstinacy of the heart 
which refused to give up its idol? She knelt 
by her chair and prayed ; then, rising with that 
stern expression on her pale face, she drew on her 
gloves and proceeded to make her escape. 

She passed out through the large hall unnoticed, 
on into the front yard, and out into the street. 
The sun had set, and a gray twilight had settled 
upon the smoky city. 

She stood for a moment, looking up and down 
the street as a lost child would do. Suddenly she 
thought of a book which she had carelessly left 
in the dining-room window, and she hurried back 
around the house to get it. On her way she sud- 
denly came upon Burnett. She drew back at the 
sight of him. He looked down upon her, and 
gazed as if he did not at once recognize her. Then 
a surprised smile parted his lips and sparkled in 
his eyes as he sprang at her and caught her in 
his arms. 

‘‘Why, Mamie, can it be you? Oh, how beau- 
tiful you have grown 

He put her from him a little, and regarded her 
as one in sweet surprise. 

“Yes,” he said gently, “you are more beautiful 


46 


CAIN. 


than yon ever were. But why are you here? Why 
aren’t you at home?” 

“I have no home,” she replied sadly. 

“But where are Mr. and Mrs. Homean?” 

“Mrs. Homean is dead, and Mr. Homean may 
be dead ; I do not know. I have not seen or heard 
of him in two years. I am, indeed, a lonely or- 
phan girl now. I have no one to love, no one to 
love.” 

“0 Mamie, what are you telling me? Can it 
all be true ? Tell me all !” 

He leaned against the house, and looked into 
Mamie’s face appealingly, anxiously, while she 
told him briefly all that had occurred during the 
past two years; and his strong body shook with 
convulsive sobs while he listened to her sad story. 
Alton had withheld the news from him for some 
reason, he knew not why. He had not been in- 
formed even of Mamie’s presence here. He had 
anticipated a happy meeting at the Homean man- 
sion after he had made Alton a short visit. But 
now his hopes and plans were shattered. Somehow 
he could not become fully reconciled to the fact. 
He could not realize that this beautiful, happy 
home he loved had been deserted, and that those 
whom he had almost worshipped, had perished so 
mysteriously. He wept for some time, then 
pressing a sympathetic kiss upon Mamie’s up- 
turned face, he bade her go into the house, with 
the usual request of God to bless her. She started 
away, and he noticed her strange dress and called 
her back. 

“AVhere were you going?” he asked. 

^^Why did you ask ?” and she blushed. 


CAIN. 


47 


'TTou have on your traveling dress. Surely 
you are not going away?^^ 

^^Yes.” 

“But why? Oh, how could you leave me so 
cruelly? I am so sad now.” 

He caught her little hand, and drew her close 
to him. She looked up into his face steadily, and 
said frankly: 

“Leland, I am a poor, penniless orphan upon 
the mercies of these kind people. I am not rec- 
ognized because I am poor and helpless; and, of 
course, as you came here as a guest of theirs, it 
would be too painful to have the embarrassment 
of your reproachful, scorning eyes looking down 
upon me. I was too proud to succumb to such 
humiliation, so I am going away. I can’t ex- 
pect you to regard me as your equal, knowing my 
circumstances.” 

“Hush, hush ! You shall not talk to me in that 
way. I regard you with higher esteem now than 
ever. You have been shamefully humiliated. No 
one has had sense enough to appreciate your true 
social qualities and your capacities. But, thank 
God, your social standing shall be restored. I 
will defend you. I am able. Will you stay?” 

She hesitated a moment, looking away toward 
the shadows of the winter evening, which were 
gathering over the great city, and a faint smile 
stole into her sad, tearful eyes. 

“I am waiting, Mamie, to hear your answer; 
will you stay and trust all to me?” 

She looked up into his face with that look of 
childish confidence, and answered: 


48 


CAIN. 


‘^Yes, Leland, I will stay. You are so kind 
and noble ; I can trust youf* 

"God bless you, child, that is a grand resolu- 
tion. Now go back to your room and abandon 
your purpose to leave.” 

He pressed her hand tightly, and turned away. 
She watched him till he disappeared down the 
street, then went into the house. When she had 
seated herself before the fire, she tried to think 
of the meeting. How strange it seemed that he 
was so interested in her. She debated in her 
mind whether she should have gone on or should 
have stayed as she had done. She felt so de- 
jected, so insignificant, so humiliated. Perhaps 
his efforts to sustain her dignity and birth would 
be futile; then' she would wake up and find her- 
self in a maze of wild, whirling fatuity in which 
she would find all friendship a mockery, love 
a curse and a sorrow, and "life hut an empty 
dream.” The child had at last begun to learn 
the world as it was and not merely as it seemed. 

That evening, when they all entered the din- 
ing-room to partake of the evening repast, Bur- 
nett and Mamie were formally introduced, which 
form they observed with stiff bows. A hearty 
supper was disposed of, while Burnett and Mr. 
Tolliver engaged in a lively discussion of Orien- 
tal travels. Mamie did not look up or engage 
in the conversation. 

That night Mamie could not sleep. She had 
carefully recalled every event of her sad life. Her 
life had been one of sorrow, yet she could see 
that the mercies of God had preserved her from 
many a catastrophe and had made life much less 


CAIN. 


49 


painful than it otherwise would have been. She 
was now fourteen years of age, and was just 
blooming into sweet girlhood; but in all the world 
she had no friend to appreciate that loveliness or 
to note the excellences of her character, save that 
true friend, Leland Burnett ; and should he 
prove false, she would be most miserable indeed. 

After that night, Mamie began to notice unmis- 
takable attention being paid to her on the part 
of Alton Tolliver. It was plain that he loved 
her. 

As time passed on, others began to pay court 
to her. At last she was sought by every fash- 
ionable lady in West Nashville, and was regarded 
by them as a most accomplished girl. She, how- 
ever, avoided their society as much as she could, 
for she did not always entertain full confidence in 
them. Now and then she observed, with horror 
and disgust, the most wicked dissimulations of 
her sex. She dreaded society. There was some- 
thing offensive and repulsive in its treachery. But 
she was quick to observe the purer qualities in so- 
cial life, and to these she clung and trusted most 
fully. 

There is in society, as well as in a great many 
other things, some good. Society is not alto- 
gether corrupt; yet it is tainted and polluted. 

Leland Burnett resided at the Tulane Hotel, 
where he devoted all his time to his theological 
studies. He made Mamie a visit every week, to 
supply all her needs and to show his special in- 
terest in her welfare. Being orphans, their sym- 
pathies were mutual, and day after day their at- 
tachment grew stronger. 


50 


CAIN. 


Alton Tolliver was jealously observant of this, 
but he manifested no irritation or anxiety. He 
had already made his resolutions, and would 
rigidly execute his plans. He would win the beau- 
tiful child, Mamie, at all cost — even to the limit- 
less bounds of a tragedy. So he calmly awaited 
his opportunity. 

There are those in existence, in whose veins 
still run the blood of blood-thirsty Jugurtha. 
They are the would-be worshippers of Nemesis; 
and they wreak their vengeance upon those whom 
they hate, in every way possible and most cruel. 
They are the anarchists of all human happiness, 
the assassins of love, the lurking, fiendish devils 
hiding in ambuscade along the highways of life, 
and seeking to spring upon some tender life and 
to crush it to death in their maddened rage. They 
crawl and hiss in every abode of happiness; and 
strike their deadly fangs of cruelty into the youth- 
ful heart, to there inject the poison of death, then 
leave it to suffer and to die. That is why God’s 
angels watch with eternal vigilance over His faith- 
ful servants while they labor in His vineyard or 
abide in the shadow of His wing. 


CAIN 


61 


CHAPTEK V. 

No event of extraordinary importance occurred 
during the lapse of two years. By this time Ma- 
mie Homean had developed into a beautiful girl 
of seventeen. Since she had had the presence of 
Leland Burnett and his help in the struggles of 
life, she had been relieved of a great portion of 
her sadness and humility. She still cherished 
that tender affection for Leland that she had al- 
most feared was wrong. But she felt that there 
was nothing sweeter than, love, and nothing 
stronger, for it was sung by Solomon, who said 
that it is stronger than death. To her there was 
nothing on earth or in heaven fuller or sweeter 
or better. But she must keep it a sacred secret. 
It would never do for Leland to know that she 
loved him. He would laugh her to scorn. 

Thus she went on day after day; but little did 
she know that Leland Burnett could read her 
childish heart in the eyes that betrayed her love 
when she looked into his. 

Apparently Alton Tolliver was Leland’s best 
friend. They were members of the same club; 
they fished and hunted together; and they trav- 
eled a great deal together. One night they were 
walking down North Market Street, and were 
engaged in an earnest conversation. 


52 


CAIN. 


saw you at the McKendree last night/’ said 
Burnett. ^^How did you like the sermon?” 

did not know much about what he said. The 
thoughts that he presented were all right, I sup- 
pose, but they were unfounded. They were beau- 
tiful thoughts, but they were mere fancies 
snatched from the mystic realm of a flaunting 
idealism — they were Tair but false.’ ” 

^Tndeed, they were not !” corrected Burnett. 
^Tt is certainly unreasonable that the human 
mind could produce such grand, sublime thoughts 
unless inspired by the divinity of God.” 

^Are you so credulous, Leland, as to believe that 
there is a God?” 

know that there is an Omnipotent Power.” 

‘^My dear Leland, can you produce proof suf- 
ficient to duly authenticate your knowledge that 
there is a God?” 

do not propose a logical discussion of the 
subject. I know it from a personal experience. 
A spiritual touch of His holiness tells me that 
He exists. Can you truthfully say that there is 
no God?” 

“I admit that there is a first cause which cre- 
ated and rules all times, existence and creation; 
but I have no right to call that cause God, or to 
attribute to Him the pious epithet that He or 
it is ^good and holy.’ ” 

‘^ell, it is not within the limited capacity 
of my limited knowledge to explain all this. Truth 
and Justice will prevail, Alton, and I know that 
it is only a wise thing for sensible persons to be 
submissive and adherent to those who have a 
more perfect knowledge than we. You must ad- 


CAIN. 63 

mit that mankind generally profess faith in 
Christ.” 

By this time they had reached Cherry Street, 
where they parted company, Alton turning into 
a saloon and Leland boarding a street car for the 
hotel. 

It is sad, indeed, when there exists such diver- 
sity of opinions between two intimate friends on 
such vital, such sacred questions. Leland Bur- 
nett was filled with true religious faith in his God, 
while Alton Tolliver was filled with the infec- 
tious, poisonous skepticism of modren infidelity! 

Often, when the conscience feels the sting of 
guilt and shudders at the visage of its crime, it 
seeks a relief in infidelic proclivities. Infidelity 
is the phantom of refuge after which only the 
cowards flee, hoping to reach a safety where an 
outraged Jehovah cannot hurl His wrath against 
them. But, ah, there is no refuge so secure that 
eternal Justice cannot enter there; no safe re- 
treat for the trembling, cowardly soul, where it 
may evade the judgment call of God. The great 
judgment is certain to come; the will of God is 
certainly upon the land; and eternal Justice will 
prevail! ^^Every knee shall bow and every tongue 
confess” that Jesus Christ is Lord; and this con- 
fession shall come from the infidel as well. 

Burnett called at the home of Mrs. Tolliver 
in due time, on a beautiful spring afternoon. 
Mamie had been looking for him, and was wait- 
ing for him to come and take her out driving. 
She watched his carriage through the window 
till it stopped at the gate. There was something 
in his appearance and manner that made her think 


54 


CAIN. 


of the old days at the happy home. He was the 
same gentle, kind-hearted boy. He had sent her 
so frequently new books and baskets of flowers, 
that she could not regard him but with the ten- 
derest affections. 

As they drove along the street and entered 
Broad Street, their Cupid-wounded hearts fllled 
with overflowing love; and Burnett turned very 
often to look at the sweet, pensive face of his 
companion. He saw, with a pleasant thrill in 
his heart, that when his earnest eyes looked into 
hers, a faint blush enlivened her fair cheeks; and 
he leaned his face very near hers while he talked 
to her with that charming, irresistible eloquence 
which love always inspires in the heart of a 
suitor. Mamie was in high spirits. The old 
days of her early girlhood at her old home came 
back to her with natural feelings of joy. She 
laughed gaily, and a radiant smile glowed upon 
her countenance. 

The carriage dashed on up the street, and in 
course of time they were driving across the bridge 
toward Edgefleld. The sun sank, and the great 
city was lighted up with electricity before Bur- 
nett turned in a homeward course. Passing over 
the bridge, Mamie looked down into the deep wa- 
ter at the dancing reflections on its surface, and 
her thoughts traveled back swiftly to that mem- 
orable evening when she prayed by the little 
spring; when Leland heard that prayer and 
clasped her to his bosom, crying passionately, 
“Mamie, I love you; may God give you to me in 
heaven!’’ These sad but sweet memories touched 
her tender heart, and large, clear tears stood 


CAIN. 


65 


charmingly in her beautiful brown eyes, and a low 
moan escaped her lips. Burnett looked at her 
quickly and said in a tone which rang out like a 
melody of tenderest love in her ears : “My darling, 
why are you crying 

He laid his hand on hers, and his eyes met her 
sorrowful gaze. She withdrew her hands and hid 
her face in them, and answered almost inaudibly: 

“I cannot tell you, Leland. I sometimes think 
I am weak and foolish.^’ 

“Mamie he said, suddenly, “do you know how 
beautiful you are — how lovely?’^ 

She did not answer, but pressed her face against 
the lining of the carriage to hide the sweet flush 
that glowed on her cheeks like the pale tint of 
a wild rose. He leaned close to her and took her 
little hand in his. 

“Mamie ! Mamie he whispered. “I love you, 
my darling, I love you 

She trembled in his presence, and strove to re- 
lease her little hand, but he pressed it more 
tightly. His heart was wild with the enthusias- 
tic rapture of his wonderful passion, — the sky 
turned to a vast sea of glittering jewels, and on 
its beauty shone the semblance of love. The 
breezes whispered love to them — every sound, 
every movement was a luxury of love to them; 
there was nothing in the great world save love, 
love, love! It beat strongly through his body, 
and the telepathic touch thrilled to Mamie, and 
she would fain have acknowledged it. 

“Listen, Mamie,” and his warm breath touched 
her cheek. “Sweetheart, my love, if you are not 
offended — ^kiss me, and I will know.” 


66 


CAIN. 


There was a quick rustle of lace about her 
sleeves, and she put up a little hand to enjoin 
silence. For a moment the love-lit eyes fell full 
and sweet upon his face, and there was a brief 
silence. This was only a moment of hesitation, 
then she lifted his hand, and he felt a quick, soft 
touch upon it, — a touch so sweet that for one rap- 
turous moment he gazed at her in speechless sur- 
prise and joy, and saw her pure, radiant face and 
soft brown eyes bent close, close, — ah, so close 
to him ! He remembered nothing save that a 
sea of love had swallowed them up. 

‘^Do you love me, Mamie he murmured slow- 
ly, with a strange rapture in his voice. “I have al- 
ways hoped, Mamie, that you loved me — darling, 
tell me that you love me.” 

A new beauty drifted over her countenance, 
and her eyes began to emit the glory of a rapidly 
burning passion. 

“I need not tell you, Leland, that I love you,” 
she said, with a low ring of rapture in her soft 
voice. ^Ah, you know that I have loved you — 
always.” 

^^0 Mamie, my darling ! God of heaven, make 
me worthy of you !” 

^^Hush, hush!” she whispered. “That is all 
nonsense. Worthy? Why, I humbly look up to 
you. Now isn’t that the way to put it?” 

He did not say, but looked at her with eyes full 
of ardent, passionate love, mingled with wonder 
and a pleasant, sweet surprise. Some minutes 
elapsed before either of them spoke. The horses 
were walking slowly; carriages dashed by them; 
and the din of early twilight stirring among the 


CAIN. 


67 


city populace was constant; but they saw and 
heard none of it. At last Mr. Burnett ventured 
to speak: 

“Did you know, darling, that love is the acme 
of human happiness; that it is the only lasting 
thing in creation?” 

“Yes,” she whispered, so low that it was like 
the stray chant of a hidden fairy. “I know that 
love is stronger than death. It is worth dying for 
that we may have it again more fully than ever. 
Ah, love is the fairest conception of Eternity !” 

Leland looked fondly into he rapture-lit face, 
thinking, with great inspiration, of the words of 
Dante Rossetti: 

^"Could you not drinh her gaze like wine? 

Yet in its splendor swoon 
Into a silence languidly, 

As a tune into a tune?"' 

“Mamie,” he said softly, “ it would be sweet to 
hear you say that you love me, again?” 

She smiled dreamily as she looked into his 
face. 

“Ah, Leland, you have been told that I love 
you by the language of my eyes, and that lan- 
guage is stronger than my w’ords.” She sighed 
a little, paused a brief interval, then continued, 
“I cannot tell you iust how I feel, but, ah, how 
dreadful ” 

“What is dreadful, darling?” 

She sighed deeply. “To think that I am no 
more queen of nature. Ah, how the little birds 
loved me and trusted me; how the sweet flowers 


58 


CAIN. 


smiled at me when I fondled and caressed them; 
how the breezes whispered love in my ears all the 
day long. All nature was my realm of sover* 
eignty, but now I have at last fallen prostrate at 
the feet of a king greater than I, and that king 
is Love, — ^that Love is you V’ 

Her sweet voice quivered with emotion. She 
continued : 

^^But, oh! what a luxury to indulge in the 
thought that I am worshipping at the shrine of 
tha noble king! It isn’t so terrible, after all, 
yet it is strange, for I hear the mad beating of 
your heart clamoring for its idol of worship, — 
poor boy !” 

By this time they had reached the home of 
Mrs. Tolliver. Leland assisted her from the car- 
riage and escorted her to the doorstep, then 
stopped and looked at her. 

“Our present felicity seems too great for us to 
destroy it now. This, indeed, has been the hap- 
piest evening of my life.” 

“Thanks,” she replied, “but we are not saying 
farewell, you know.” 

Leland laughed and caught her hand. The 
street light fell full upon their faces, and she rec- 
ognized his laugh with a sweet smile. 

“Take off 3^our hat a moment,” he said. “Now, 
let me adorn your person a little more,” and he 
unwrapped a golden locket and chain from its 
silk paper wrapper and suspended it about her 
neck. It sparkled like a rival against the beau- 
tiful necklace she had always worn, and flashed 
among the laces on her bosom. 

“This,” he continued, gently, “is yours hence- 


CAIN. 


69 


forth, as a token of my affection for yon. One 
thing you must promise me, however, and that 
is that you will never open it to ascertain its con- 
tents until I tell you that you can open it. This 
is not a hard, strange request; it is only a mat- 
ter of necessity.'’’ 

‘'Thank you, Leland,” she said softly,^ as she 
laid the jewel in her hand and looked at it, smil- 
ing as she did so. “You can trust me.” 

“Trust you?” he asked half to himself. “Yes, 
forever !” 

Then he caught her hand, kissed it, and turned 
away, saying good-by as he went. But just then 
Alton met him. He glanced from Leland to 
Mamie and smiled. But we know that behind a 
smile there sometimes lurks a fiendish visage. He 
stepped forward with that usual mieasy, quick step 
and haughty air, and, lifting his hat, he bowed 
courteously. 

“Good evening to you both. Allow me to con- 
gratulate you as the modern lovers of a modern 
Pompeii, Glaucus and lone.” 

He laughed and shook Leland’s hand, then Le- 
land turned away, and was soon out of sight. 
Alton and Mamie repaired to their respective 
apartments, and soon absolute silence reigned in 
the house. 

To-night, as Mamie lay awake, she asked her- 
self why she shivered, why she could not sleep, 
and almost unconsciously she answered herself 
by asking herself another strange question : 

“Tell me, 0 my heart, why do you think so 
tenderly now of my mother?” 

In her wakeful restlessness she rose, went to the 


60 


CAIN. 


window, knelt by it, and folded her arms upon 
the sill, while she looked far out over the great 
city. She fancied she still heard the ardent 
beating of the heart of him whom she loved so 
dearly. The music of his voice still rang in her 
ears. Tears filled and overflowed her eyes, falling 
warmly on her folded hands. 

^Mamie ! Mamie ! My darling, I love you, 
my darling ! I love you V ” she said in a plaintive 
tone. Her words startled her, and she rose, low- 
ered the window and the shade as if some passing 
fairy might hear her words. 

That night was a dream of love. But the fu- 
ture she dreamed was crossed by shadows, and she 
saw through the shattered scenes of her dream the 
bleeding heart of Alton Tolliver slowly dying un- 
der the cruel martydom of insatiable love. She 
pitied him. 

During the following months Alton Tolliver 
seemed to take a deep interest in Leland Bur- 
nett. Frequently he visited him in his room and 
spent hours of the evening talking with him. 
Their taste for study was parallel. There was no 
care, no trouble, no secret of Leland’s that he 
would not confide to his friend, Alton. He even 
laid before him the secret of his wonderful love 
for Mamie. Like David and Jonathan, their 
affections were united in a bond that might be 
stronger than death. Leland was much more 
wealthy than Alton, and it was his greatest 
pleasure to lavish upon him his fortune in ex- 
treme extravagance. In every bit of happiness 
which Leland had, Alton shared equally. There 
was no dream or hope that he did not pour into 


CAIN. 


61 


the sympathizing ear of his friend. He hoped 
and prayed and pleaded with all his soul that Al- 
ton might be rescued from the poisonous, treach- 
erous coil of the serpent of Infidelity which was 
poisoning gradually his youthful soul; and he 
fancied that faith that was strong enough to re- 
move mountains was his, and that some day he 
would rejoice to see his dear friend in the arms 
of salvation. Alton recognized all this with 
seeming pleasure, and showed his appreciation 
by frequenting his society at the hotel, at the 
club, and by going with him to church. 

As Leland made frequent visits to see Mamie, 
their aJffections continued to grow stronger rap- 
idly. They gave to each other their hearts, their 
lives, and as completely as ever love was given 
for love. Their love was that pure love, ‘^The 
love of heaven’s own making.” But there is no 
dreafii of life so sweet that it has no ending. 
The bitter awakening is sure to come, with its 
terrible disappointments. 

Leland had lingered near his beautiful one 
long enough. The sacred duties of his calling 
summoned him away to Washington, and the 
time had arrived when he must go there. He 
had already made his parting visit to Mamie, 
and the following day he would start away. And 
as he was making preparations to go, he began to 
think about the long time he would be absent 
from his darling, and an intense longing to see 
her seized him. He wanted to see her once more. 
Besides, he had something to say to her. He 
wrote a little note, requesting her to meet him at 
a quiet little place in the suburbs of the city that 


6^ 


CAIN. 


evening. When Mamie read it she hesitated. 
Mrs. Tolliver had retired early before it was yet 
dark, and Alton had gone out to revel with some 
evil associates, and no one would observe her ab- 
sence for a little while. So she veiled her face 
and drew a shawl about her shoulders and quietly 
left the house. 

As the street car stopped for the passage of an- 
other, she boarded it. It was not long carrying 
her near the appointed spot. She stepped from 
the car and walked down the narrow path that 
led to the river bank where she was to meet him. 
The dew had fallen a little, and it showered from 
the grass and flowers in crystal drops upon her 
dainty slippered feet as she brushed by them. 
Before she reached him, she saw Leland’s half- 
bent form darken against .the. watery mirror. 
How could she ever meet him? When she reached 
him, her suffering heart gave way, and she fell 
upon her knees at his feet, crying: 

‘^0, Leland ! This is wrong 

^^Yes,’’ he admitted, ^ht is wrong, but let us 
try to think that it is a pleasant romance, and 
that whatever is sweet is neither good nor bad.’’ 

“But I can’t!” was her only reply, and she 
looked blankly into his strangely brilliant eyes. 

“Mamie! My darling! My love!” he began, 
passionately, “I could not quiet my desire, my 
intense longing to see you once more. I have 
something to tell you, or at least a request to 
make. When Mr. Homean entrusted to me your 
share of the legacy, he imposed a great responsi- 
bility upon me. Qf course, legally, you cannot 
claim it until you reach the proper age, but here 


CAIN. 


63 


is a check calling for the amount of your legacy, 
which I bequeath to you from my own earninga 
and possessions. Take it without a word of re- 
fusal.^^ 

She took it without a word, and was aston- 
ished, but something in his flashing, brilliant 
eyes told her that it would not do to hesitate. She 
took it from his extended hand. 

He took her hands and held them tightly, and 
looked into her eyes with a world of love beam- 
ing in his own. 

‘^Now, darling, let me hear you say once more 
that you love me,^^ he said, very tenderly. “It is 
a luxury to hear you say that. I am listening, 
my sweet.^^ 

“Leland, I love you!” she said, with a low, 
sweet melody in her voice. He ventured to kiss 
her lips, then released her hands. 

“I am glad. To hear you say you love me is 
richer than a stray melody from heaven. Oh, if I 
could hear it always — always — always.” 

He spoke in an ardent whisper of passion. 

“Now, I must say good-by again,” he said. 
She etxended her little jeweled hand to him, and 
he grasped it in silence for a moment, then mourn- 
fully they said: 

“Good-by.” 


y 


64 


CAIN 


CHAPTER VI. 

In one of those magnificent, palatial houses 
that give Washington its marvelous beauty and 
make the grandeur of our Capital almost peer- 
less as a city of luxury, stood Leland Burnett a 
few days after his departure from Nashville. His 
reception into Mr. Billion’s beautiful home was 
indeed a cordial one, and he was soon familiar 
with the character and customs of the family 
with whom he had chosen to reside. He had 
had some little acquaintance with Mr. Billion a 
few years before; and knowing him to be a kind 
man, he preferred living with him to lodging at 
a hotel. In addition, Mr. Billion was an influen- 
tial member of the society to which he belonged, 
and for which he was to preach. 

The family consisted of Mr and Mrs. Billion 
and their little seven-year-old daughter, Lilian. 
Mrs. Billion was one of those good-natured, in- 
telligent, lovable characters that always make 
home a palace of peace, an emblem of heaven. 
But she was very much devoted to society, and 
gave much of her time and attention to the de- 
mands of social ethics which she should have de- 
voted to the care and attention and training of 
her beautiful little daughter and to making her 


CAIN. 


65 


hearthstone a happy resort for Mr. Billion dur- 
ing his leisure hours. She was a middle-aged 
woman of fine bearing, and she still retained the 
handsomeness and gaiety of youth. She was am- 
bitious, yet, with all this pride and dignity, she 
possessed a personality that won every heart that 
came within the power of her refining infiuence 
and winning disposition. 

Lilian was of gentle and meek disposition; a 
child whose sweetness and loveliness was marked 
by the purity of her manner and her docility. She 
loved books, and displayed a taste for literature 
at an early age. She loved kind, gentle play- 
mates, and detested all rudeness and ill-temper. 

Mr. Billion was a man of rare ability in busi- 
ness. He was a man of considerable wealth — 
man of millions — yet he was noble and generous- 
hearted, and donated large sums for the building 
of churches and the founding of libraries and of 
schools, and for the support of the poor and 
suffering of our race. He was a philanthropist. 

Burnett was given a room beautifully furnished, 
where from his window he could look out upon 
the Capitol building. He was furnished with a 
well-supplied library, and spent the greater part 
of his time in his study, poring over difficult prob- 
lems of Oriental geological discoveries and intri- 
cate translations of recent archeological find. Here 
he wrote articles as contributions to a noted re- 
ligious periodical, which had secured his name 
among its able contributors. His insatiable de- 
sire for erudition and especially theological lore 
urged him to pursue with eagerness the curricu- 
lum most pertaining to his great work. 


66 


CAIN. 


One day he was reading a paper, and had jnst 
completed an article. Tossing it upon his desk, 
he went out into the fresh air to exercise. Just as 
he started down the street he was joined by Mr. 
Mathes, a gentleman whom he had met on his 
way to Washington. He carried under his arm a 
Greek New Testament, and when he joined Mr. 
Burnett he said: 

^^What do you think? I have conceived a new 
idea which is a proof within itself.” 

“Then I’ll be pleased to learn the new idea. 
Let me hear it.” 

“Well, sir, I have arrived at the conclusion that 
not all souls are immortal. There is no future 
habitation for some spirits that now inhabit the 
frail body of man. Now, there; don’t look so 
shocked! I haven’t satisfied my relentless ambi- 
tion yet, whatever I may say as I proceed. The 
argument supporting what I have said is very 
plain, but I will not enter into an explanation, for 
my theory is true.” 

Leland opened his mouth to speak, but Mr. 
Mathes enjoined silence with a flourish of his 
hand. 

“Spare yourself, Mr. Burnett, I have been fol- 
lowing the bent of your mind. I know you dis- 
trust me, but bear with me just a little.” 

“I meant to declare your theory false, no mat- 
ter what the form of your argument may be.” 

“Have you studied the Latin and Greek class- 
ics?” asked Mr. Mathes, as if Leland had not 
spoken. 

“I have a very good knowledge of the classics, 
yes, sir.” 


CAIN 


67 


'T)o you read the Bible?” 
do, extensively.” 

'Then, have you the New Testament in the 
Greek translation?” 

'T have, and I find it a great help; it is very 
plain.” 

"Perhaps it has been too plain for me,” said 
Mr. Mathes, somewhat to himself. "I believe 
there is a final redemption beyond the grave where 
the soul that is doomed to eternal hell can obtain 
forgiveness and made pure for the courts of 
heaven. Then the soul can 'pass from death into 
life.^ ” 

"There is a hell,” said Leland with emphasis, 
"and the poor, unfortunate soul that hurls itself 
therein can never, never return. Such theories 
are verging upon skepticism, Mr. Mathes. No 
theological doctrine will contain such a danger- 
ous theory. I am sure you are no theologian, or 
you would have never entertained such a danger- 
ous thought.” 

"But, my friend, there can be found certain 
portions of the Bible which demonstrate my 
theories.” 

"Spare yourself; conversely, I can find portions 
which seemingly are to me altogether skeptical; 
while there are other portions which the feeble, 
limited intellect of man cannot discern.” 

"Oh, you are unfair!” said Mr. Mathes, hotly. 
"You have given me no chance to explain myself.” 

Just then they were passing a magnificent sa- 
loon, through the doorway of which streamed rap- 
turous strains of music played by a skilled band. 


68 CAIN. 

Mr. Mathes stopped short, and listened with a 
smile. 

suggest, Mr. Burnett, that we go in and lis- 
ten and take a sip at the bar.” 

"No, no, Mr. Mathes; I shall go on. I don’t 
think your suggestion is a good one.” 

"Pshaw ! We need not tarry long. Be generous 
to an old acquaintance just for this once.” 

"I shall not go, Mr. Mathes. If I must be 
candid, I do not drink any intoxicating liquors.” 

"Well! A youthful prohibitionist!” and Mr. 
Mathes laughed derisively. "A chap afraid of 
hell because of the consequences. Though it is 
very well to be consistent enough to seem to prac- 
tice what one preaches. You preach morality of 
action and a final inevitable Hades. Very well, 
then.” 

He turned abruptly away and entered the sa- 
loon. His step was quick and uneasy. He 
chuckled to himself as he entered the bar-room : 

"Thunder! That stiff chap will soon become 
acquainted with this new doctrine. It is the 
strangeness of it that impresses him now.” 

Burnett went on his way with his head bowed 
in a thoughtful mood. He rehearsed seriously 
every word of the previous conversation. How- 
ever strange and easy was the new plan of the- 
ology, it was a very dangerous something to tam- 
per with. He shook his head and meditated and 
soliloquized : — 

"It is all folly, for God’s word says, ^Watch 
and pray’ and ‘Work, for the night is coming.’ 
Ah, how surely the rich man lifted up his eyes in 
hell and saw Lazarus in Abraham’s bosom. He 


CAIN. 


69 


knew there was no redemption for him, for he 
did not ask for more than just a drop of water to 
cool his parched tongue/’ 

Leland was strong to resist the power of such 
a theology. How prone are the youthful hearts to 
yield to the allurements of every wild doctrine 
that some clamoring, pessimistical or skeptical fa- 
natic tries to establish ! 

The darkening shades of approaching evening 
began to fall over the city before Leland reached 
his new home. Lilian saw him coming up the 
street, and ran to meet him at the gate. He lifted 
her in his arms, and she greeted him with a kiss. 

“We will play checkers to-night, won’t we, Mr. 
Burnett?” axie asked gleefully, and a little bit 
anxious. 

“If you wish; we shall play awhile. Then I 
have something to tell you and to show you/' 

“Oh, Mr. Burnett, what can it be?” 

“I’ll tell you by and by.” 

They reached the house; atid as they were as- 
cending the steps Lilian was telling him some- 
thing that had happened at school that day. 

^^Whyl Lilian! Flirting with Mr. Burnett, 
are you?” asked Mrs. Billion, who was standing 
in the door as they came up. 

“Oh, no, mamma, I am just giving him a wel- 
come.” 

Mrs. Billion smiled at Leland as he passed into 
the corridor ; then, after lifting her beautiful child 
into her arms and kissing her fondly she went into 
the house. 

That night, after the game was over, Lilian re- 
mained in the drawing-room with Leland, show- 


70 


CAIN. 


ing him her pretty books which had been given 
her as Christmas presents and birthday gifts. 
Among these was a beautiful morocco-bound New 
Testament. Leland took it and looked through it 
carefully, and there was several minutes of si- 
lence. Presently Leland began: 

“Lilian, do you like beautiful stories?” 

“Yes, sir, I always delight to read them.” 

“Did you ever read the beautiful story of Jesus, 
the Babe of Bethlehem, who grew to manhood, 
was mocked and scorned and hated, then crucified 
upon the cruel cross that the world might be re- 
deemed from sin?” 

“No, Mr. Burnett,” she said with a sigh. “I 
never read that story. Is it a beautiful one?” 

“Indeed, it is beautiful. It is a brief story, but 
a love story. You will find it in this pretty Testa- 
ment.” 

“Then, if it is so short, read it to me. I like to 
hear you read.” 

Lilian, you remind me of a queen who com- 
mands her subject to obey her royal charge. My 
little majesty, I will read to you.” 

Leland took from the center-table the Holy Vol- 
ume, and read passage after passage of Christ and 
his ministry. The child listened with awe and 
silence. Finding that the child was deeply in- 
terested he continued to read ; and when he reached 
the cruel mockery of the unfaithful disciple, the 
betrayal, the arrest, the trial, the condemnation, 
and last and most cruel of all the shameful death 
upon the cross, Lilian’s eyes began to be dimmed 
with tears. When he finished the chapter he 
closed the volume, laid it back on the table and 


CAIN. 


71 


looking up at the silent child he saw the tears 
trickling down her cheeks. He smiled and 
stretched forth his hands, and she came to him. 

“Oh, Mr. Burnett, that is the grandest story I 
ever heard. I could hear you read it a thousand 
times over. It makes me want to be good. Mamma 
says I am already good, but I am not as good as I 
should be.^’ 

Burnett lifted her and kissed her tenderly. 

“Your pure soul is just what God wants it to 
be. Your mother is right; you are good.’^ 

“I shall try to be better. I want you to read 
that story to me as ften as you can, and help me 
to be a better girl.” 

“God bless you, child ; that will be the happiest 
privilege of my life!” exclaimed Leland, clasping 
the child to his heart with sacred ardency. Silence 
reigned for a few minutes. The breezes stole 
through the open window, and touched the little 
cluster of carnations and the pretty green-ten- 
drilled white lilies drooped in pretty enameled 
vases on the table and shook the magnificent lace 
curtains till the moonlight fairly danced and the 
alternating lights and shadows trembled ecstatic- 
ally over the carpeted floor. 

As Burnett held the child in his arms, strange 
tidings seemed to waft to him from afar, and 
listening to the beating of the child’s heart he 
thought of another beautiful moonlight night 
when he lifted another pure child to his bosom 
and felt the rapturous throb, throb, throb, of her 
heart. 

The child withdrew from his arms, and with a 


72 


CAIN. 


courteous, demure bow she bade him good-night, 
and repaired to her little bed-chamber. 

It was one of those rare moonlight nights in 
July when summer, with all of her pomp and 
splendor, calmly dreams in quietude, with her 
gorgeous, verdant drapery drawn about her, while 
she is conscious of the regal splendor that is cast 
about her by a glorious moon. Pearly shell-clouds 
with bright borders, collected like an archipelago 
of cloud-islets in the calm, distant blue; other 
clouds, like sweeping masses of tangled veiling, 
trailed along beneath the moon; a steady breeze 
stirred the shade trees in Mr. Billion’s yard and 
whispered unknown messages to the bowing, dew- 
laden lilies and roses. All this scene of regal 
splendor was seen by Leland Burnett, who was 
still awake, thinking of the past, which drifted to 
him in bits of sweet but sad memories; and he at 
last thought of the child who had never heard the 
story of Jesus. There was something altogether 
lovable about the gentle, docile child that was a 
rare feature in the disposition of other children, 
and he rejoiced that she would become a Christian 
through his influence. He, poor, weak being, 
would bring one beautiful soul to join that im- 
maculate band which shall be chosen to sing God’s 
praises in the New Jerusalem. 

Lilian loved Leland in that way that a child 
can love one whom it intuitively knows can be 
trusted. Leland loved Lilian in that way that a 
hungry heart loves a child when its greatest and 
most precious idol is far away, and when it feels 
an emptiness which none but a child’s sympathy 
can supply. 


CAIN. 


73 


Late one afternoon Leland was reading Shake- 
speare’s tragedy on Brutus’s stabbing Caesar when 
Lilian crept up noiselessly and without being no- 
ticed,' and stole a kiss from Leland’s hand. He 
looked up quickly and saw her standing before 
him with her hands behind her and a smile beam- 
ing in the bright little face. 

“Guess what I have for you, Mr. Burnett?” 

“A big, green peach !” said Leland gaily, where- 
upon the child laughed heartily and flourished an 
exquisite bouquet of mignonettes, portulacas, 
pansies, pinks and calliopsis neatly arranged. 

“Does that look like ‘a big, green peach ?’ ” 

“Well, three cheers for you !” exclaimed Leland 
with enthusiasm. “This is a treat. Oh, what 
pretty pansies ! And this is for me ?” 

“Yes, I gathered them for you since I came 
from school.” 

“Many thanks,” exclaimed Leland, as he took 
them and kissed them fondly. 

“Oh, you are reading from Shakespeare ! Pray 

read to me! I heard Prof. H lecture on 

the English authors, and he mentioned the great- 
ness of Shakespeare.” 

“I fear your young mind would not compre- 
hend his meaning.” 

“Then could you not explain to me? You do 
explain so well.” 

“Perhaps that would be bettter. Then we can 
talk it over in our own language. I shall read to 
you about the Seven Ages, an extract from his 
wonderful piece called As You Like It.’ The 
extract is found in Act II, Scene 7. It is about 
a duke banished from his own country, perhaps. 


74 


CAIN. 


and in company with one Jacques and other Lords. 
They are sitting at a plain repast which they 
have prepared in the garden of Arden. Orlando, 
who has been wandering through the woodland in 
search of food for an old servant, Adam, who can 
‘go no further,’ suddenly comes upon them and 
draws his sword. While his sword is drawn he 
says, ‘Forbear; he dies that touches any of this 
fruit until I and my affairs are answered!’ Now 
listen w^hile I read what followed.” 

Burnett slowly and carefully read the extract, 
pausing now and then to explain a difficult phrase 
or an intricate sentence. The child listened 
quietly, while a pleased expression on her face 
told her that she comprehended at least a part of 
what he read. When he finished it she said : — 

“Poor Orlando ! he thought those men whom he 
came upon were cruel, savage men. But the duke 
and Jacques proved to be almost saints instead of 
savages.” 

“And that poor old servant had followed him 
because he loved him. What a beautiful thought, 
this precious love ! Lilian, do you know that love 
is the sweetest virtue in the world ?” 

“I have learned to think so since you have lived 
with us.” 

“Do you know, Lilian, that love sometimes 
makes one unhappy?” 

“Are you unhappy, Mr. Burnett?” the child 
asked, with an earnest, sincere look. 

“Sometimes,” he answered wearily. Then, wish- 
ing to avert the conversation, he opened the book, 
and with his fingers pointed to a paragraph said : — 

“Listen to what Jacques says about the world 


CAIN. 


75 


and its people: All the world’s a stage, and all 
the men and women mere players ; they have their 
exits and entrances ; and one man in his time plays 
many parts, his acts being seven ages/ ” He con- 
tinued : 

^^Now you heard me read those seven ages a 
short time ago; can you name them now?” 

“At first the infant, then the whining school- 
boy, then the lover, the soldier, the justice, and 
the sixth age is of the character with spectacles 
on his nose and pouch on his side. The last age 
is when childishness returns. Did I get them 
right?” 

“Yes, you repeated them in regular order. You 
have a wonderful memory.” 

The child laughed merrily. 

“I’ve treated you mean, Mr. Burnett. I’ve been 
hearing the class in English Literature rehearse 
that so often that I have learned it myself.” 

Leland laughed good-humoredly. J ust then Mr. 
Dillion joined them and all went into the house. 

That night Leland prayed and studied and 
wrote till very late on an article which he was 

preparing for the M . He paused now and 

then to think of the result that might come from 
the writing of the article. Perhaps some wretched 
soul would be encouraged by its inspiration. Some 
one would read it with enthusiasm, no doubt, while 
others — the critics — would howl and scoff and de- 
ride the author’s rudeness of style. This latter 
class he did not regard with the least thought of 
seriousness. He rather heard their clamoring crit- 
icisms below him without looking down, as though 
it were a matter of course that they would clamor 


76 


CAIN. 


like jealous pedants to show their ability to class- 
ify erudition. In his previous article they had 
found plagiarism and had denounced his work as 
something which dwelt too much in statistics and 
as something very dry, — ^that the space it occupied 
would be more profitably devoted to a patent medi- 
cine advertisement. All this was food for the 
sneering, buffeting, impetuous cj’itics who hun- 
gered and struggled for some opportunity to dis- 
play their learning. But Leland was undismayed, 
and submitted his work to only one Critic — that 
omniscient critic who doeth all things well. Le- 
land was conscious that his superior intellect far 
surpassed that of his contemporary writers. In 
fact, he knew that he was capable of criticising 
their criticism. He was silent and amused while 
they hissed and scorned. He knew that aside from 
his own imperfections his work was not altogether 
a failure or so offensive to the refined taste of 
literary people. While this turmoil of criticism 
was raging, Leland did not fail to notice with per- 
fect gratification the lauding comments of some of 
the leading Southern papers upon his eminent 
articles; they even honored him by quoting parts 
of his work. He felt sure that he was not alto- 
gether a failure in the world. A warm, fervent 
sensation welled up in his heart when he thought 
that Mamie Homean would read the praises lav- 
ished upon him. She would be pleased then, and 
it was a kind of quietus for his weary heart to feel 
that her sanction would be placed upon his work. 
MTiat would it matter if a whole world buffeted 
him if she were on his side? While he wrote on, 
and the thought of expected criticism upon his 


CAIN. 


77 


orthodox articles recurred to him, he almost un- 
consciously rehearsed over and over to himself 
the words of Solomon: ‘^He that reproveth a 
scorner getteth to himself shame,” and “Who so 
loveth instruction loveth knowledge; but he that 
hateth reproof is brutish.” To reprove these 
scomers would be to get shame unto himself; and 
he would not hate their reproof because he might 
become brutish, for even though he did not desire 
their reproof, he might get instruction from their 
vain folly. Very well he knew that the purpose 
of these higher critics was to humiliate him and to 
crush his youthful hopes and aspirations. But 
what could a few snarling hounds do when all the 
people generally praised his efforts and lauded 
his ability as a theologian to the skies? Though 
he felt all his superiority as a literary scholar, he 
was devoid of all conceit concerning his efficiency. 
He felt that there were some errors in his contri- 
butions, but that that was a very prominent fail- 
ure on the part of his contemporaries in the liter- 
ary field. He put aside their insulting remarks 
by giving Harris’s antithesis, that “Easy writing 
is hard writing.” 

During all his days of hard study, he never for- 
got one sweet face with pensive eyes, classical fore- 
head, and sweet, flexible lips. Should that sweet 
face vanish from his sight forever, all his hopes 
and noble aspirations would crumble to dust and 
his soul would wither and die ! 

He finished the article at last; and, after in- 
voking God’s blessings upon it and His preserving 
care over him, he retired. 


78 


CAIN. 


Leland was diligently writing one afternoon at 
his desk when Lilian came into the library and 
gave him a letter which had just arrived. He ex- 
pressed his thanks and bade her take a seat, which 
she did reluctantly, as she noticed a frown upon 
his face. She watched him break the seal and be- 
gin to read. As he read his face began to clear up 
with a pleased smile. When he had finished it, he 
looked up and saw Lilian gazing at him with 
bright tears in her eyes. Leland caught her in his 
arms, kissing her repeatedly. 

^^Why do you cry when you know I am happy 

^^Because I love you,’’ she whispered. There 
followed a long silence, broken at length by Lil- 
ian’s voice: — 

^‘Why does Mr. B and Mr. H and 

Judge A and a few others talk so cruelly 

about your pieces in the paper?” 

‘‘How do you know they do ? ?” 

“I heard mamma and papa say they were criti- 
cising your work.” 

“Do not mind that, Lilian ; if I do not care you 
need not; they must necessarily cease some day.” 

“But it is cruel for them to treat you that 
way when you do not deserve it.” 

“But after a while they will praise me higher 
than they have scorned me down.” 

Lilian spent the rest of the evening with Bur- 
nett. His power over the child was boundless, 
and he knew' it. Her character was fiexible to his 
will. He could make a great Christian personal- 
ity of her. As they bade each other good-night 
Lilian asked: — 


CAIN. 


79 


^T)id that letter make you glad?” 

‘^Yes.” 

^‘Then it was from some one whom you love?” 
"Yes, it was from a sweet girl, a good girl, — 
one who loves me and whom I love.” 


80 


CAIN. 


CHAPTEE VII. 

Mamie Homean soon grew tired of and dis- 
gusted with society; and, withdrawing abruptly 
from its circles, she devoted her time to the study 
of the greatest and most vital religious questions 
of the day. She was about the age to begin to be 
useful in the service of God, and she must make 
preparations. Her dream of childhood had been 
of the time when she might do something for the 
Lord; when she would go out into the field of 
labor and win souls for Christ. How silly and 
trifling, how empty of genuine lasting pleasure, 
were the worldly amusements current in the cir- 
cles of society, when a vast field of labor awaited 
earnest workers to labor in it for the Master ! 
How grand, how wonderful to work for J esus ! 

The cruel treachery of society had wounded her 
pride. It was one evening when she was at the 
social gathering at Mrs. TruiPs that she received 
the insinuation against her obscure birth. 

One night, several weeks after, she was resting 
upon her little bed and thinking of the insult she 
had received at Mrs. Truit’s party. Her face 
burned with hot anger and indignation, and the 
blood beat heavily in her temples. She thought 
of Leland far away. What would he say if he 


CAIN. 


81 


knew that such insolent, contemptuous treatment 
had been shown her? She was glad he did not 
know. She reached her hand toward the little 
table by her bed and lifted the letter she had re- 
ceived from Leland that evening, and leaning out 
to the moonlight that streamed through the win- 
dow to see the familiar handwriting she pressed 
it to her lips, murmuring plaintively : 

“God bless him! He is worth a thousand hon- 
ors such as society might give.” 

She replaced it upon the table; and, as she laid 
her head upon her pillow she could not avoid cry- 
ing, for she heard the insolent remarks ringing 
derisively in her ears. 

She turned her face and hid it in the folds of 
the soft pillow. Tears welled up in her eyes, and 
she wept a long time. 

At last she went to sleep and dreamed of Le- 
land. 

Mamie absolutely avoided the society of Mrs. 
Tolliver^s guests, and turned her whole attention 
to her books and to the organization of a religious 
society which she was endeavoring to establish in 
the humbler, friendless suburbs of the city, which 
she visited very often. Books, congenial friends, 
and warm, religious talks with the simple and 
lowly in life she loved; but voluminous breakfast 
gowns, gorgeous costumes, affectation and dis- 
simulation she loathed and despised. Mrs. Tolli- 
ver began to notice her marked reticence, but said 
nothing. The house was frequented by notable 
citizens of West Nashville, but Mamie evaded the 
necessity of meeting them by having the excuse 
that she had to fulfill an engagement with her 


82 


CAIN. 


fellow-workers ; and as Mrs. Tolliver did not care 
if she were absent, she spent much of her time 
alone in the library or in the homes- of those who 
were members of her organized society, and she 
seldom met Mrs. Tolliver or Alton except at meal 
time. 

The little neighborhood which composed Ma- 
mie’s field of labor began to enliven and take a 
step forward toward progression. It began to 
flourish under her leadership. She finally began 
to teach school there. She abandoned Mrs. Tolli- 
ver’s home, and boarded with a family nearer the 
building in which she taught. She was ambitious 
to make her own support. The check which Bur- 
nett had given her had been lost unaccountably. 
And though heir to that amount, and to an addi- 
tional sum of a million dollars which fell to her 
from the deceased Mrs. Homean, she was never- 
theless poor and without a home. She would not 
tell Burnett that his check was lost; she would 
struggle through alone. 

She was becoming more and more lonely every 
day. She could not become reconciled to the death 
of Mrs. Homean ; and Leland was far away, where 
she could never see his face or hear his rich, mel- 
low voice. But she found some consolation in her 
labor among the poorer classes. It was there that 
she felt the touch of congenial sympathies and 
found alleviation for her misery by frequent asso- 
ciation with the warm-hearted Christians, which 
supported and strengthened her mind with hope, 
joy and courage. Surely all this, together with 
the precious love of the Lord, was enough to con- 
sole her in all the afilictions of life. 


CAIN. 


83 


It was one Thursday afternoon, during vaca- 
tion, when Mrs. King was honored by a number of 
guests who had been invited to dine with her, that 
Mamie took a pretty bouquet of flowers and stole 
away to the cemetery. She lingered late, and ere 
she retraced her steps the glory of a full moon 
spread over the twilight and dispelled the coming 
darkness. A thousand voices were hushed, and 
the evening breezes were lulled to sleep in the 
rocking cradle of the tree tops. With a pensive 
expression in her eyes, she looked over the distant 
haze of moonlight, and a secret sensation that al- 
ways stole into her peculiar nature touched her 
heart with an enthusiasm and strange inspiration 
and she almost forgot her sadness. Her eyes wan- 
dered about and drank in all the beauty and charm 
that such a night of shimmering moonlight and 
peace and silence could exhibit. As she walked 
along she took off her bonnet and shook down her 
soft brown hair till it fell in waving masses about 
her shoulders; then a melody, sweet and low and 
full of pathos, burst like the rare cadence of a 
heavenly chant from her lips : 

''Down in the valley where sunshine 
Falls all the long summer day. 

Stands out hy the roadside a cottage. 

But, 0, it is far, far away, 

" *Tis there my happiness was in childhood. 
When mother's dear face I could see. 

Yet now both cot and garden 
Are only fond memories to me," 


84 


CAIN. 


As the sweet refrain hushed upon the evening 
air she sighed, and the cherished bit of faded 
memory came back to her with a tender touch 
and she smiled with a charm of tears in her eyes 
as she thought of a mother whose arms had pro- 
tected and cared for her and whose tender lips had 
pressed many a sweet kiss upon her infant lips. 
But it was all a vague memory. 

Just as she was turning into a little path that 
led to the place where she boarded, Alton Tolliver 
stepped out from a cluster of honeysuckles in 
front of her and extended his hands toward her. 
Mamie saw a strange flash in his feverishly bril- 
liant eyes; and she was about to recoil when he 
grasped both of her uplifted hands and drew her 
close to him and whispered : — 

^^My love, my darling! I have been waiting 
here for your return. Oh, stay and listen to me 1^’ 

^^What would you say then, Alton?’’ she asked 
wonderingly, but with firmness and coldness; and 
he grasped her hand so tightly that it ached. 

must tell you what you already know — ^that 
I love you better than I love my wretched life !” 

“Why do you sa}^, Alton, that I already know?” 

“You ask me why. Ah, my love, you know that 
I loved you with an ardent love before you went 
away from my home.” 

“I had no reasons for thinking such a thing; 
besides, Alton, it would be an unpardonable pre- 
sumption on my part to venture such a conjec- 
ture.” 

“Hush, hush! You shall not baffle me in such 
a manner. Oh, child, why did you go away from 


CAIN. 85 

my home ? Simply because you know that I loved 
you 

She looked wonderingly at him without answer- 
ing him. His eyes sought her gaze, and for a 
moment they fixed their eyes upon each other ; hers 
cold, innocent and calm; his passionate, unsteady 
and unnaturally brilliant. 

'^Come with me,’^ he said at length, and led her 
to a little mossy mound and pointed to a blue- 
steel, pearl-handled pistol which he had left there. 
It glistened dully as the moonlight shimmered 
over it. 

^^That,” he began firmly, ^fis my Alpha and 
Omega.^ It will be either for weal or woe for 
me.” 

He stopped and picked it up and waved it wild- 
ly over his head. Placing it in its case he went 
with her on her way home. As they walked along 
they began to talk. He spoke in that low tone of 
eloquence which always alters the masculine voice 
to a lovely tenderness. Here and there a slip of 
moonlight stole through the tree tops and lighted 
up their way ; and a frightened bird would flutter 
from a low bough as they passed under it and 
would pause just ahead of them as if to listen to 
the music of love as it sounded from the vocal 
chords of the suitor and to see the poetic dream 
that shone from the mirror of his rapture-lighted 
features. 

^‘You say you have been mistreated,” he rea- 
soned, ^^and that such a life of exile from those 
who should be worthy associates is hard. Then, 
if you will accept my true affections and join your 
destiny with mine, I shall give you advantages 


86 


CAIN. 


that will far eclipse anything you can dream of, 
and you will enjoy happiness of highest felicity/’ 

‘And you would love me?” she asked shyly. 

“0 darling, you should not doubt me ! Have I 
not told you the earnestness of my love; and have 
I not proved that devotion? Oh, I cannot live 
without you !” 

“Alton, it seems that I care for you more than 
I would for a special friend. But I cannot accept 
your poposition.” 

“But you will learn to love me. Oh, if you 
send me away from you, my tortured heart will 
seek an end of this mortal existence at the muz- 
zle of this destructive weapon.” 

He placed the pistol against his heart, and con- 
tinued : 

“You may send me away from you, and you, 
the priceless jewel of Beauty’s shrine, may go on 
with a thousand worshippers at your feet; great 
men may woo you and the world may pay great 
honors to you, but you will never find a love so 
deep, so true, so earnest, so devoted as mine !” 

Alton felt this, and his pleading eyes told it. 

“But, Alton,” she said testily, “these are fair 
promises and very inviting ones, but they might 
be easier said than done.” 

“Oh, you will not trust me ! Why ! My wealth 
is at your disposal. Love makes everything value- 
less in its sight. Besides my wealth, my affection 
should be a valid inducement.” This with affected 
timidity. “Oh, must I say that I love you, sweet 
Mamie ? Dare I speak to Koscoe Homean’s foster- 
daughter the words with which I would woo 
charming Mamie Homean?” ' 


CAIN. 


87 


She raised her unsteady eyes, but did not an- 
swer. Her body quivered like that of some poor, 
cold child. But why did she shudder ? Ah ! for 
the passing moment of pleasant romance she had 
forgotten herself to trifle with the affections of an 
infatuated lover. Her conscience told her that 
she had done wrong. 

She stopped suddenly and looked Alton full in 
the face. 

^Alton Tolliver, you may consider yourself dis- 
missed. It is not far to my boarding-place, and I 
am not afraid to go alone.^^ 

She flournished her hand with an imperative 
gesture, and he looked at her wonderingly. But 
something in her eyes admonished him not to 
linger. He bowed courteously and turned away. 

The evening breezes fanned her flying chestnut 
hair about her temples, and sang softly through 
the trees. The cold light of the stars faintly 
shimmered over her pathway and over her stern, 
beautiful face, where a visage of loneliness lurked 
— a reflection of desolation which had never dwelt 
there before. Her conscience smote her with pow- 
erful repentance. She had never realized such a 
desolation — such desolation and agony of soul! 
She passed through the meadow lot — a nearer way 
— toward the house, startling a rabbit that had 
been taking exercise in physical culture, and dis- 
turbing a cluster of ducks that were sleeping near 
the little brook that ran through the lot ; and when 
she reached the house looked wistfully toward the 
city and murmured: — 

“I would not be there again ! Oh, what a change 
since an hour ago 1^^ 


88 


CAIN. 


Before this her life had been calm and un- 
broken by remorse; it had been a precious life of 
pleasant duties ; and her girlhood had been blessed 
with innocency; but now the cherubim of wrath 
stood out against her. 


CAIN. 


89 


CHAPTER VIII. 

One pleasant morning in April Leland Burnett 
and his little friend, Lilian Dillion, were standing 
out on the front piazza at Mr. Dillion’s, watching 
the little birds playing about the eaves of the 
building just across the street, when the shrill 
whistle of the postman at the gate attracted their 
atttention. Lilian sprang forward quickly, laugh- 
ing at Leland because he was ‘‘so slow,” and of 
course she was the first to receive their mail. 

“Have they quieted the riot among the strikers 
in Chicago yet?” asked Leland of the hurrying 
postman. 

“No, sir,” he answered briefly. “Not likely to 
till the ‘Rebs’ taste of the army^s blood!” and he 
went on. 

Among the articles of mail, Leland received a 
letter from Mamie. He took it from the other 
mail and put it in his pocket till he reached the 
library, where he took a seat near the window and 
broke the seal. His heart beat wildly with grati- 
fication of joy, and a pleasant glow of bliss shone 
in his face. It was an early answer to his last 
letter, and surely there must be something very 
good in it that she wanted him to know as well as 
herself. 


90 


CAIN. 


He unfolded the missive and scanned it from 
the dating to the saluation, and there his counte- 
nance fell. A puzzled expression wrinkled his 
brow. It was typwritten; and he could not iden- 
tify the writer. As he read on, an ashy, livid 
visage gathered over his fallen countenance and 
his fingers clutched the parchment tightly. When 
he finished it, he looked up with eyes ablaze with 
agony, mortification and astonishment. His lips 
trembled with a tremor of anguish, and a low, 
stified groan escaped his lips. The world grew 
dark about him and whirled with ten thousand 
times ten thousand demons. Every noble princi- 
ple in him seemed to be completely drowned in the 
flood of despair and anguish which swept over him 
in that brief moment. He looked at the terrible 
message again. Slowly and carefully he read 
every line and word : 

Mr. Burnett: — I implore you now to dismiss 
all your affection for me, as I no longer entertain 
any particular regard for you. Of course we are 
still friends. I am deeply involved in my work, 
and have found a more congenial suitor nearer 
home; bury forever in oblivion our little romance 
and think not of me. 

Yours respectfully, 

Mamie Homean. 

How utterly impossible it seemed that Mamie 
Homean, that proud but noble girl, would stoop 
to such vile dissimulation as that. Yet it surely 
must be of her own words. She had typewritten 
one or two letters to him before that ^^just for 


CAIN. 


91 


fun,” but they were always addressed in her own 
handwriting, just as this one was. 

He bitterly reproached himself for ever having 
trusted the woman. He had alw’ays distrusted 
other women ; why had he so foolishly confided in 
this one ? The very evil that he had thought him- 
self free from had entangled him — ^the fascina- 
tion of a woman. But, somehow, he could not put 
Mamie Homean entirely from his heart. She 
was enthroned there in spite of all opposition. 
His reason rejected her, but his heart clung to her. 
His love for that child had become a part of his 
life, and to wrest it from him would almost be to 
take his life. Yet he felt that he had been foolish 
enough to trust so foolish and treacherous a thing 
as a woman. 

While he stood so still and gazed at the floor 
with a fixed stare, Lilian looked up at him and 
started back. 

“Why, Mr. Burnett! What troubles you so? 
Are you ill ?” 

Her words aroused him from his oblivion, and 
he groaned pitifully as he answered: — 

“I think I must be ill, but not seriously, I 
hope.” 

His voice was husky, and as he started toward 
the door he staggered. 

“You should lie down, Mr. Burnett.” 

He did not answer, her, but walked on out into 
the study room and dropped wearily into his chair. 
There he buried his face in his hands and gave 
himself up to deep and painful thoughts. How 
long he remained there he did not know, but he 
felt the presence of another in his room, and look- 


92 CAIN. 

ing up saw Mr. Mathes standing in the doorway 
smiling upon him. 

“I fear this is a very rude intrustion on my 
part, Mr. Burnett/^ said Mr. Mathes, apologeti- 
cally. 

^^Welcome, Mr. Mathes. Take a chair.” 

Leland tried to be cheerful, but a troubled and 
anxious expression lingered on his face. With 
artificial pleasure and with an assumed air of 
dignity, Mr. Mathes places himself in the large 
cushioned chair by the window, and the morning 
passed away while they engaged in another the- 
ological debate. 

Alas ! for the fatal hour when these two gen- 
tlemen met; when the beautiful picture of fancy’s 
pure and innocent taste came to Leland Burnett 
through the false but seemingly fair and true 
friendship. It is then that the confidence of youth 
is led away into an awful, awful abyss of an in- 
evitable course. 

^^Well, Mr. Mathes,” said Leland, after they had 
started the discussion, “your argument from where 
you begin seems to be self-evident, but it leaves 
me entirely unsatisfied. You have never explained 
the origin of these bold, rash sayings. They are 
entirely unfounded.” 

^^^hy, Mr. Burnett, if you remember, I ex- 
plained to you in an interview with you a short 
while ago that these principles are founded upon 
the Divine Scriptures, — a portion of the at least.” 

“ portion,’ indeed !” answered T.(eland, 
haughtily. “Wliat are you going to do with the 
other portion?” 

“If I must be candid, Mr. Burnett, I must de- 


CAIN. 


93 


dare mj absolute unbelief in all the Bible save 
those passages which I have chosen for my new 
doctrine.” 

Leland smiled reprovingly and thought for a 
moment. 

^‘Do you believe in the Golden Kule?” he asked 
at length. 

do !” said Mathes, emphatically. 

'^ou understand it to teach us to love our Lord 
with all our soul, mind, strength and heart, and 
our neighbor as ourselves ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“And yet you say that there is no final re- 
demption for some who fail to obey this rule? 
Now I think it becomes a man to be consistent. 
Why should God require his people to obey this 
rule when He loves us to the extent that He will 
not inflict eternal punishment upon us for our 
willful disobedience and sin ? And again you say 
that you believe that our Lord is a just God. 
Now, the strangeness of this doctrine is its incon- 
sistency. Do you believe a just God would re- 
quire his people to live wholly blameless in order 
to enter the portals of heaven while others He 
would release from all obligations and save them 
at last after they had lived a life of sin and re- 
bellion against his throne? The Bible is founded 
upon that Golden Eule — Love to God and Love to 
Man. ‘Upon these two hang all the law and the 
prophets.^ Am I to understand you to believe 
this?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Then why is only a part of the Scriptures to 


94 


CAIN. 


be accepted when all the law and the prophets are 
to be based upon these two injunctions?” 

Mr. Mathes became exceedingly nervous and 
looked very much discomfited, but he managed to 
say 

“It is my doctrine to believe only that which I 
can understand. For that reason I declare my 
absolute unbelief in those parts of the Scriptures 
that I cannot understand.” 

Leland’s argument was shattered for a moment, 
and he could say nothing. He was bewildered. 
The doctrine of believing only what one could 
understand struck him forcibly. 

Alas ! It was a stroke upon his conscience. The 
idea seemed consistent to him. Nevertheless, he 
resumed the argument after a brief pause and be- 
wilderment: — 

“To be consistent, Mr. Mathes, we must reject 
the Bible entirely, or else accept its teachings 
wholly; for every part of it bears such a close re- 
lation to the other that to separate them would be 
to render it a base fatuity — a flaunting lie ! Mr. 
Mathes, I mean no disrespect to you, but I must 
be candid. Pardon me when I say that you have 
studied the Divine Scriptures till you have formed 
an orthodoxy which permits you to live after your 
own rathers; and if you fail in that, you cling to 
the hope of being rescued from hell — a redeemed 
probationer! Ah, my friend, hear my monition: 
it is a dangerous thing to tamper with your eter- 
nal interest in such a wicked way !” 

Leland rose to his feet, while his enthusiasm 
rose to an ardent heat. He looked down on Mr. 
Mathes and saw the darkening visage, and he knew 


CAIN. 


95 


that his censuring words of keen reprehension had 
been driven home to the very heart of the skeptic. 

They soon ended their discussion, and Mr. 
Mathes bade him adieu. 

After Mathes had left, Burnett walked anxious- 
ly back and forth in his room, deeply engrossed in 
the strange new philosophy of “believing only what 
one could understand.” This new, speculative the- 
ology strangely impressed him. At last he sat 
down and gave himself up to the strange thoughts 
of the stranger message that he had received from 
Mamie. 

A strange desolation came over him. Every 
future hope and noble aspiration seemed to van- 
ish. 

“Oh, if I could only see her beautiful face once 
more !” he said to himself. “If I could have one 
little interview with her I could win her back to 
my heart. Surely that noble girl does not mean 
to disappoint me in that way. I would rather lose 
all the world beside than to lose Mamie Homean. 
If I were the greatest king in the world I would 
gladly abdicate a throne rather than part with my 
love !” 

Kesolutions formed rapidly in his mind — reso- 
lutions as unchangeable as the Alpine heights — 
and they gathered in his frenzied brain to go 
quickly to Mamie and plead his love to her again. 

He hurriedly packed his telescope and prepared 
for the trip south. After a brief explanation to 
Mr. and Mrs. Billion that some very urgent busi- 
ness in the South had very unexpectedly called 
him away, he hurried to the depot, where he 
boarded the train and was soon on his way. Good 


96 


CAIN. 


connections landed him in Nashville in a short 
time. His heart beat madly with hope and desire 
to see his loved one. Somehow he felt that her 
cruel letter was meant just to try him, and that 
the joyful surprise that his arrival would secure 
for him a loving welcome. Ah ! how he hoped and 
trusted. 

It was late in the afternoon before he reached 
the outskirts of the city where his loved one re- 
sided. The purple glow of sunset was fast fading 
into a lovely serene twilight. The gentle murmur 
of the breezes was heard among the trees, and the 
cricket’s chick-a-chick-chick had begun to render 
the solemn night a solemn one indeed. Heaven’s 
sparkle-lit jewels began to slowly marshal on the 
skies, from which they poured forth constant vol- 
leys of fairy-like effulgence upon the retreating 
forces of daylight. The soft moonlight tickled 
the world with straws of light; the cool dewdrops 
began to bejewel the grass and flowers with ten 
thousand times ten thousand sparkling diamonds; 
and the gentle breeze glided along the silence- 
wrapt night and mingled its sweet strains with the 
low murmur of the Cumberland. 

They told him that Mamie had gone down to 
the river to take a boat-ride, and he hurried on. 
Anxiety quickened his footsteps as he pictured to 
himself a pleasant rare romance, in which he 
imagined he felt the warm clasp of her soft little 
hand and saw the pure love swimming in the liquid 
depths of her flne brown eyes. He was hopeful, 
then dubious ; he was courageous, then afraid ; yet 
he hurried on faster and faster toward the river. 

At length he reached a rugged boulder which 


CAIN. 


97 


reached out over the river and only about ten feet 
above it. He looked anxiously up the river, and 
saw through the distant gloaming a litttle boat 
slowing moving down the stream. Eagerly he 
watched and waited. At last he saw her — his loved 
one — row out her little boat to the bank just a few 
feet up the river from the point or boulder on 
which he waited. He saw and heard her drop the 
dripping oar into the boat and step out with the 
chain in her hand. But just as she was about to 
fasten the chain into a hook in the rock and as he 
was about to make his descent to her, his eyes fell 
upon a folded piece of paper lying on the rock 
just in front of him. He saw her name written 
upon the last line, and curiosity prompted him to 
take it up and read it. He unfolded it and read : — 

Dear Alton : — I trust that you will meet me at 
the river this evening, for I have something seri- 
ous to tell you. Oh, do not delay one moment, for 
I think so much of you, and this message that I 
have for you is for your and my eternal interest. 
If you love me as you say you do, oh, come, dear 
Alton, to me ! I shall be waiting, hoping, .trust- 
ing and praying for you ! Your own, 

Mamie. 

The paper fluttered from his Angers; his hands 
went up in despair; and a deep groan issued from 
his blanched lips, while a blaze of frenzy leaped 
into his dark gray eyes. Alas ! it was true ; she 
had deserted him ; she had ceased to love him, and 
the ^^more congenial suitor’^ was his dear, trusted 
friend, Alton Tolliver. Ah, he might have known 


98 


CAIN. 


it! She said in her letter that she thought so 
much of Alton and that he had told her that he 
loved her in return. There it was, in her own 
handwriting; there was no doubting it. 

He looked down to see her once more ; to see the 
beautiful child that had turned him from a Chris- 
tian into a wretched devil, and he saw the figure 
of a man moving toward her while she stood with 
her face buried in her hands and crying passion- 
ately. The stranger’s hands were extended toward 
her imploringly, and she fell on her knees at his 
feet. 

Leland refused to see more; and, throwing up 
his hands in anguish, he cried out: “0 God, sus- 
tain me!” 

They heard him not, and he started madly 
away,” picking up the little note as he went. His 
noble self had burned to ashes and left him a de- 
praved wretch. All hope died and aspiration with 
it, — only his love survived — and an insatiable de- 
sire for revenge flamed up in his heart. 

He went to his room in the hotel, procured his 
gun and hurried back with the fiendish intent to 
kill his treacherous friend before he left the spot 
where he had seen him last. Every step he made 
seemed tardy, and he pushed on with maddening 
rage. 

But when he reached the spot, there was no one 
there. He cursed God and man and himself and 
all the world. Vengeance had kindled a new and 
greater fire in his heart, and he rushed madly 
away in search of the man for whose blood he 
thirsted. He searched in vain all that night. 

The following morning he learned that Mr, 


CAIN. 


99 


Tolliver had gone the previous evening to Was- 
ington. He hurriedly packed his belongings and 
boarded the train for the Capital again. In his 
heart he cursed the tardy train and even himself 
for not being able to fly there. 

When at last he reached Washington he did not 
even go to Mr. Billion’s, so deeply was he en- 
grossed in the bloodthirsty pursuit of his rival. 
But he failed to find him; no one had seen him 
arrive there, and none even knew of such a man. 

At last one evening Leland gave up hunting for 
him, and started wearily on his way to Mr. Bil- 
lion’s. He had not quite reached the city, and 
the moon was shining bright, when he saw a man 
coming toward him. The man failed to see Leland 
till he confronted him, when he threw up his 
hands with a loud cry of fear. Leland advanced 
on him, and fired his gun. Through the vanish- 
ing smoke he saw his rival fall. It was Alton at 
last. He stood by him like a statue, looking 
down upon him pitilessly and hearing his groans. 
His heart was benumbed, but he was calm. Sud- 
denly he fancied he heard a voice — the Voice of 
Eternal Justice — saying: 

**Cain, where is Abel, thy brother f" and un- 
consciously he answered in startling tones : 
know not; am I my brother’s keeper?” 

^^What hast thou done? The voice of thy broth- 
er's blood cryeth unto me from the ground!" was 
the awful answer. And Leland looked down upon 
him whom he had endeavored to murder. The 
bloody face startled him, and he fled from the 
spot. All the way home that distorted, bloody 
face haunted him, and again and again he heard 


100 


CAIN. 


that Eternal Voice of Justice which first startled 
the ancient murderer with the words, “Where is 
thy brother?’’ 

Remorse for his terrible crime overcame him 
at last; and, cursing God, creation and all man- 
kind, he gave himself up to Fate. We lose him 
in the great throng of cold, heartless, pessimistical 
humanity ! 


CAIN. 


101 


BOOK 11. 


CHAPTER IX. 

Three years later Mr. Dillion and family moved 
to a beautiful summer home hidden away in the 
wild Rocky Mountains, where great cliffs and 
huge boulders frown from angry heights and 
where the great forest harbors every suggestion 
that is wild and that remains of primitive ages. 

They chose this location because of its charm- 
ing seclusiveness and its wild enchantments. 
There lies, huried deep in the depths of Orologi- 
cal formations, the richest dreams of the enthusi- 
astic scientist. The undiscovered strata of pre- 
historic ages suggest not a more desirable place 
for geological research than in the huge peaks and 
ranges of these great mountains. There is an im- 
pressive strangeness about that force which up- 
heaved these great mountains and which had its 
origin in the contraction of the cooling globe. 

It was a beautiful morning in July, when sum- 
mer’s dream reposed in every flower, floated upon 
every gentle breeze, touched every bird-song with 
gladness and brooded like a sweet heavenly spirit 
over the deep, cool valleys and shady hills. 

On this particular morning, Mr. Dillion was 


102 


CAIN. 


swinging slowly back and forth in the hammock 
which he had suspended between two shade-trees 
east of the house. In this way he spent the long, 
peaceful days of the summer months. The beau- 
tiful gardens looked like rare extracts from Para- 
dise, as they spread out about the house. Four 
narrow, cool, shady walks led each way from the 
four sides of the mansion. A snow-white, fancy 
iron picket fence stretched along each side of the 
yard of beautiful gardens; and at the center of 
each side, where the walk-ways egressed, there were 
beautiful gates, named respectively : ^Areola 
Gate,” on the north; ^‘Babylon Gate,” on the 
south; ‘‘Hades Gate,” on the west, and “Habak- 
kuk Gate,” on the east. Each gate bore in gilded 
letters its name. 

A cool, shady road extended entirely around the 
fence, then turned into one single road which led 
down into a dark valley of dense forest. 

The magnificent mansion which occupied the 
center of the yard was constructed of valuable ma- 
terial, and was of artistic proportions. Its gran- 
deur was imposing, and when one looked at it 
there was an impressiveness about it that com- 
manded great admiration. And it looked grander 
hidden away there from all civilization; and its 
magnificence was enhanced by the fact that it was 
the only representative of art or architecture there 
buried deep in the very heart of Nature^s wilds. 

The main entrance to the mansion was by the 
walk-way that led from the Hades Gate, and just 
over the pretty marble archway on the grand piazza 
glittered the golden letters that spelled and pro- 
nounced the name of the magnificent building — 


CAIN. 


103 


'^GETHSEMANE/^ All the front yard of 
“Gethsemane^^ was occupied by a beautiful floral 
garden filled with every variety of the prettiest and 
most cultured flowers in the world. On the east 
side there was a beautiful house, which stood 
about the center of a pretty rich meadow. In this 
little meadow-lot grazed nearly every kind of tame 
animal. Some would be grazing, some would be 
romping about in play, and some would be lying 
and tranquilly sleeping under the cool shades of 
the spreading trees. The other gardens bounding 
on the north and south were utilized in the culti- 
vation of the various vegetables which the family 
residing there consumed. 

It was indeed a rare beauty-spot for such a 
rugged, uninhabited mountain. Strange to say, 
it was located miles away from any town or vil- 
lage. A few poor cottagers, forming a settlement 
in a mountain valley about four miles away, 
marked the only place of inhabitants in all the 
vicinity. The only visitors that frequented the 
beautiful resort were the sweet-spirited mountain 
birds that came every morning to sing and play 
among the creeping vines which clung to the walls 
and wound from column to column laden with 
the night’s cool dewdrops. And some lingered 
there and made merry all the long summer day. 
Now and then a rabbit ventured far enough down 
the branch on the north side to romp and play 
with his mate on the narrow meadowed margin 
of the brook and take a peep at the great mansion, 
then bound away at the approach of some one 
who chanced to come through the garden to see 
them. 


104 


CAIN. 


The owner of this beautiful mansion was a gen- 
tleman of whom there is but little known. He 
was known as Mr. Cain, and he spent very much 
of his time in the eastern countries. Through an 
advertisement Mr. Billion learned of this beauti- 
ful summer resort, and by a written communica- 
tion with Mr. Cain in the Old World he contracted 
to rent the abode for a summer home. 

The few weeks of his residence there had been 
very pleasant indeed. There were rare luxuries 
in the elaborately furnished building, as well as 
in the cool oriental shade, and besides all these 
they could spend many happy hours reclining and 
slumbering among the ferns and flowers of the 
gardens. 

This still, • peaceful morning, while Mr. Billion 
reclined in his hammoclf, reading “Quo Vadis,” 
Lilian stole softly over the thick carpet of velvety 
green and peeped over his shoulder. With a 
smile as glorious as that of an angel, she gently 
touched her tender lips upon his careworn face, 
and called in a low, sweet voice: 

“Father! Father! Guess what I have for 
you 

He observed the glowing, beautiful face with a 
heart beating with rapture, and gathering her in 
his arms he looked toward heaven and said : 

“0 God, give me a spirit of gratitude, that I 
may more sincerely thank thee for this pure, sweet 
child 

When he released her, she stood at his feet, 
looking up into his face with a look of bewilder- 
ment. Her face betrayed a dubious smile, but in 
the calm depths of her eyes there was revealed, as 


CAIN. 


105 


they always had done, a pensive, anxious look, 
and, with tears gathering in them, she said : — 

^Tather, why do you call me an angel? I have 
no pretty little wings, and I am not good like 
the angels.” 

Mr. Dillion said nothing, and in the silence he 
fancied he heard the very silence echoing with the 
songs of the grand angels praising God. He lost 
himself in solemn meditation, and some moments 
elapsed in silence, which was broken by the low, 
sweet voice of Lilian again asking: — 

“Father! Father! Guess what I have for 
you !” 

“Why, my child, I guess you have another sweet 
kiss for me.” 

“Yes, I know; but what else?” and she held 
forth in her little dimpled hands a beautiful bou- 
quet of flowers dripping with dew. 

“Take them, father. Mamma told me to bring 
them to you and to kiss you once for her,” and 
how sweetly her pretty lips pouted when she 
kissed him. 

That evening, Mr. Dillion had been Ashing, and 
was on his way back home when he saw Lilian 
coming on the run toward him. The day had been 
bright, but the luster of the heavens now was giv- 
ing way to the pale, pearl-like gray tint that 
stretched across the heavens, “folding up as in a 
mantle” all the luxuries of the glorious setting 
sun. The elusive odors and delicate chill of com- 
ing nightfall floated gently over the summit of a 
high distant peak. The melancholy calm of the 
closing day rendered the hour a holy one. 


106 


CAIN. 


Lilian met her father near the valley, and there 
was a frightened expression in her eyes. 

‘^0 father she exclaimed, ^^there is a poor, 
tired woman weeping by the Habakkuk gate !” 

“Why, child ! who conld it be ? ? Who has ever 
wandered to this secluded place? It surely is 
some one who has lost her way.” 

“Come on, father !” she urged as she pulled him 
along. “Poor woman, she is in distress !” 

He followed his daughter around the fence to 
the beautiful white Habakkuk gate, where they 
found the woman bowed in sorrow and weariness 
— a lost being ! She did not notice their quiet 
approach, but sat still, with her face buried in 
her hands. Now and then a half-suppressed sob 
escaped her lips. The chill breezes danced and 
flitted in frolicsome fun among the ruffles of her 
garments. The distant wild echoes of the turbu- 
lent mountain wilderness came through the dark, 
thick forest and rifted rocks as if they were the 
broken melodies of the ancient mythical Amphion 
with his wonderful lyre marshalling the spirit an- 
thems of the universe and bringing stones together 
and forming the walls of another Thebes. 

Mr. Dillion and his daughter looked upon the 
woman with pity, hearing the groans and mur- 
murings that fell from her lips. Lilian advanced 
toward her, and, kneeling beside her, looked up 
into the woman’s pale face and asked in that low, 
clear voice: — 

“Dear friend, are you lost?” The silence gath- 
ered her words, and a hush fell over all again. 
Tears gathered in Lilian’s eyes. She put her 
warm little hands up to the woman’s face, and 


C A I K . 107 

once more came the accents of her soft voice: — 

^Are you lost 

The woman looked up as if from a delirious 
dream. Mr. Dillion took her offered hand and 
assisted her to rise. A grateful spirit shone from 
her pensive eyes as she said simply and sweetly : 
thank you both.’^ 

As she looked down upon the child before her, 
she started back and gazed silently at her; then, 
as a smile stole through her tears, she took her in 
her arms and said in a solemn, low, weird tone: 
^‘Darling, I am lost.” 

^^Well, come with father and me,” requested 
Lilian, ‘^and you will feel happy in our home; 
you are not lost now.” 

She took the woman by the hand to lead her 
into the house, but the woman hesitated. 

‘^No, I am lost!” she said bitterly. ^Tx)st — 
lost — lost ! I must journey on a little while lon- 
ger. My journey will soon be over. Soon I will 
reach the other shore. Oh, there I shall find Jesus 
and there I shall patiently wait for my dar- 
ling — ” she could say no more. She leaned her 
head against the gate and wept bitterly. The 
gentle breezes carried the echoes, shifted them 
through the rocks and cliffs, then carried them 
away into the bosom of silence. 

She was about to fall, when Mr. Dillion took 
her upon his arm and led her into the house. 

She found herself upon a beautiful sofa in the 
corridor, where the cool, nocturnal breezes drifted 
through. Lilian took a goblet of wine, and 
touched it to the exhausted woman’s lips. The 
gentleness of her action and attitude awakened 


108 


CAIN. 


in the eyes of the lonely woman a faint glow of 
tenderness as she quaffed the delicious wine 
Lilian responded with a beautiful smile in which 
a thousand radiant lights seemed to dance and 
sparkle. 

The night was tranquil, and the strange 
woman rested in peaceful slumber the whole night 
through. A while before day she awoke and 
looked out through the window. The moon had 
long since journeyed down through the western 
trees toward the horizon; great fleecy clouds lin- 
gered like myriads of suspended pearls beneath it ; 
and the whispering breezes whispered a melody 
of peace. As she looked out through the silent 
night, she felt that no one else was awake. The 
lonely Venus shone in the eastern skies like a 
haughty sentinel guarding the fortresses of 
heaven’s eternally hidden wealth of unknown 
worlds. A fleecy fleet sailed along the skies, 
stealing away the faint light of the lonely planet, 
which now and then re-appeared dimly through 
the thinner portions of the vapor. 

While the lonely woman gazed long and stead- 
ily at these far-away movements of the universe, 
a peculiar illustration suggested itself to her 
mind. Like the lonely star, her early life had 
shone with the light of usefulness on the early 
dawn of youth’s horizon. But a shadowy cloud 
had drawn its gloom across her life like the vapor 
that hid the star, and since, while the star of her 
life was as pure and bright as it ever was, its 
brightness only once in a while shone through 
the shadow. 

At last the morning came, and the glorious 


CAIN. 


109 


dawn of the eastern light half-circled over the 
eastern hills. She gazed at the pageant of the 
morning sun and all its pure, beautiful surround- 
ings with an ardent, rapt expression in her pure, 
bright eyes. 

She was much revived. She rose, raised her 
window to catch the first breath of the wild moun- 
tain breezes as they swept down the slopes bear- 
ing the odors of wild ferns and flowers. She 
looked down the southeastern slope of the moun- 
tain, where a narrow valley lay, as if it were a 
mirror, refiecting all the glory of the morning 
dawn. Down before her, spread out like an em- 
blem of Paradise, 'was the menagerie of animals, 
and she gazed with a girlish fancy and admira- 
tion at them. Some of them were wading the 
first and freshest dews of the morning; some were 
still sleeping in the soft-lawned meadow ; and 
some were gleefully playing about the meander- 
ing brook that ran across the meadow. 

She leaned further out to inhale the fresh 
mountain breezes, where her attention was caught 
by the sight of a pretty cluster of morning-glor- 
ies that entwined themselves gracefully about the 
wires that supported them. The beautiful blos- 
soms turned their smiling faces up to her with 
the dewdrops lurking in their calm depths. Now 
and then the breezes would touch them and claim 
a number of them to shower over those blossoms 
waiting below. 

She heard the cooing of a dove far down the 
glade, and the melodies of the happy birds pro- 
claimed to her the awakening of a happy morn- 
ing. A feeling of momentary bliss seemed to 


no 


CAIN. 


form a halo of love and glory about her, and 
for that blissful moment, she forgot all her 
troubles. Had she waked, as did the sleeping 
Original in primitive days, to find an Eden round 
about her? 

As she gazed upon these luxuries of nature, 
soft, quick footsteps were heard ascending the 
staircase. Then came a gentle tap upon the door. 
She admitted the person ; and when the door 
opened, Lilian stood in its way, with a look half- 
radiant with a smile and half- wistful with anxiety 
on her face. 

‘^Good morning greeted Lilian. 

^^Good morning!’’ responded the woman, who 
stood aside to admit her. 

“ Well ! Well I How much revied you seem 
this morning!” Lilian ejaculated; then, with that 
sweet tone and low accent in her voice, she asked : 

‘‘Are you still lost?” 

There was something in the tone and manner 
of that little cultured girl that strangely im- 
pressed the woman, and the simple question — 
how full of meaning! — sank deep in her heart. 

“Yes, child, I am lost!” she answered sadly. 
“I could not tell you where I am. I have been 
gazing out over the beauties of this home, its 
pretty gardens, lawns, animals, its beautiful white 
fences and gates ; I watched the glory of the east- 
ern dawn, and it seemed to me as if my mind 
drifted into the realms of imagination, that I 
could see the fabled Argonauts sailing across the 
ethereal seas of heavenly gold yonder on their way 
to Colchis in the ship Argo to gather the golden 
fleece of the deep dawn. I felt happy then, but 


CAIN. 


Ill 


now, I remember that I am lost. I don’t know 
where I am, nor where I am going. Oh, how 
hard !” 

She buried her face in her hands and wept 
bitterly. Lilian stood by her in silence for a 
moment, then put her little hand upon the wom- 
an’s arm. 

^^But the lost is found. You may stay with us 
as long as you wish to. I know that father will 
be glad for you to remain with us. He wull do 
anything that I ask him to do if I ask him to do 
anything that is right. Will you stay?” 

The woman looked mournfully at the smiling 
face of the child, then suddenly a bright smile 
touched her features, only to be overshadowed by 
a painful agony, which gathered over her brow 
and darkened in her eyes. Oh, how sweet was 
the face of the pretty child before. Yet it brought 
a sad memory to her recollection. Something in 
that face made her think of one man she knew 
so well — whom she loved. But now he was far 
away, perhaps in eternity. Often in the sweet 
days gone by, she had looked into two brave, 
passionate eyes, like those in whose languid depths 
she now gazed. 

The pause had been a long one; and at length 
Lilian drew near, and throwing her arms about 
the woman’s neck, she kissed her and whispered : 

“Please do not look so sad.” 

After a pause she continued: “Father will 
grow impatient; let us hurry down to breakfast. 
It is waiting for us; but I am about to be im- 
polite. I forgot to ask your name or to tell you 


112 CAIN. 

mine. My name is Lilian Dillion. May I ask 
yours ?” 

^^My name is Homean.” 

^^You? Mamie Homean? Let me see/’ She 
paused a moment. 

remember a gentleman who used to speak 
of a girl, Mamie Homean. I believe that he loved 
her, for he spoke often of her. Where did you 
live about three years ago ?” 

lived in Tennessee about that time.” 

‘'There goes the bell !” interrupted Lilian, and 
they went down to the morning repast. 

Lilian briefly introduced the lady to her father 
and mother, after which they all disposed of a 
delicious meal. 

Mr. Dillion was a clever observer; and, as he 
ate his breakfast, seemingly indifferent, his keen, 
glancing eyes frequently sought the face of the 
strange visitor, while Mrs. Dillion entertained her 
by telling her romantic stories of the strange 
mountain resort. As Mr. Dillion looked at the 
woman’s pensive face, he noticed a faint trace of 
youth gleaming in her thoughtful eyes and a per- 
petual smile on her half-parted lips. Although 
her appearance was that of one who had suffered 
an age of trouble, to Mr. Dillion, she was merely 
a girl of about twenty. 

He finished his meal, pushed back his plate, 
and cleared the crumbs from his napkin. 

“Miss Homean, you were completely lost, when 
we found you, were you not?” 

“Yes, sir, I was lost, but it mattered not with 
me then; I had given up to die. My sorrows and 
griefs were wearing my life away. A few more 


CAIN. 


113 


hours before I reached that beautiful white gate, 
I thought I saw a great white spirit hovering over 
me. One by one all my earthly ties had been 
severed, and I was homeless, friendless, and oh ! 

so desolate She paused to suppress the 

choking sensation rising in her throat. 

Mr. Dillion came to the rescue of such embar- 
rassment as would naturally be felt, and he asked 
her in a comforting tone : 

^^You came into the wilds of this mountain to 
seek the peace and the rest for which your ach- 
ing heart and weary soul were longing?’’ 

“Yes, sir. I thought that I would live only a 
little while longer, and the society of the wild 
mountain birds and sweet, innocent flowers were 
truer and purer than the cruel world had been. 
But I was lost.” 

Mr. Dillion sighed, and turned to his wife. 

“Leland said those very words only a few hours 
before he went away. Poor boy ! Poor Leland ! 

His faltering voice fell like an echoless mourn- 
ful sound upon the breezes as they swept through 
the beautiful dining-room. 

“Poor Leland !” said Lilian, with tears stealing 
over her cheeks. 

No one saw the expression of anguish that 
struggled in Mamie’s eyes, nor the painful, quick 
sigh that escaped her lips, as she bit them at 
the mention of Leland Burnett’s name. At last, 
and so strangely, she had come to the family that 
had once been associated with the boy she loved 
so well. 

They all arose from the table and repaired to 
the drawing-room. After a pleasant conversa- 


114 CAIN. 

tion, Mamie rose to her feet, though she was very 
feeble, and said: 

^‘Now I must express my sincere gratitude to 
you all for your unparalelled hospitality to me. I 
am sorry to leave such good people, but must be 
going. I cannot afford to impose upon you by 
you all for your unparalleled hospitality to me. I 
know I have a warm, cordial welcome here in this 
beautiful home, but I must not intrude. There, 
now, Mrs. Billion, do not insist on my staying, 
for I must go.” 

^^Why, you cannot stand it. You must wait 
till you are stronger !” exclaimed Mrs. Billion. 

Mamie’s face grew pale ; her body trembled 
with weakness; and she was compelled to resume 
her seat. Mrs. Billion saw her beginning to 
faint. When she had somewhat revived, Mrs. Bil- 
lion carried her back to the little room arranged 
for her. While she rested on the pretty little bed, 
Eliza, the hired servant, brought her water when 
she wanted it, and books to read. Her bed was 
near the window, and she could see the calm 
beauty of the rosy dawn. She looked with pleas- 
ure at the gorgeous colors that trembled on the 
waterfall of the little creek as it leaped over the 
huge boulders some twenty feet high into the boil- 
ing foam below. Far up in the stream, as far as 
the dense foliage of the mountain forest would 
admit of view, the stream glowed with the re- 
flected hues of the gorgeous colored heavens, as it 
rushed over rapids, flowed smoothly over little 
river-plains, and rippled over pebbles. The sound 
of its music seemed to lull the cool morning into 
drowsy hush upon which all nature had laid her 
head and gone to sleep. 


CAIN. 


115 


A portion of the flower-garden could be seen 
through another window, and it presented a gor- 
geous pageant whose characters were a myriad 
host of blossoms and tendrils standing in the 
beautiful arena like drooping sentinels resting 
and nodding in the calm brightness of the sultry 
sun. 

The domestic animals wandered across the 
meadow, following the dewy shade, and there lay 
down to instinctive dreams. 

The merry laughter and chatter of the little 
mountain spirit, Lilian, was hushed ; and even the 
merry birds sought the cooler abode of the dark, 
dense forest; all were quiet. 

Mamie looked out upon the beautiful calm 
quietude with a strange impressiveness fixed in 
her passionate brown eyes. The quietness seemed 
to cause her to fall into a restful sleep. The 
solemnity and the holy calm and repose of nature 
had sweetly impressed her. The faint breezes that 
occasionally stole in, as if afraid to disturb the 
slumberer, brushed across her splendid features, 
carrying with them the restless, weary look that 
always haunts the face of the wanderer. 

Her sleep was a holy repose; and it was after- 
noon before she awoke to see Lilian bending over 
her with a smile in her pretty eyes. She re- 
turned the smile; each kissed the other, uniting 
their love, never to be broken. 

^^Are you lost?” and Lilian bent low to catch 
the answer which she scarcely heard. But the 
smile that lighted up in that woman’s face was 
answer enough for her. 


116 


CAIN. 


) 


CHAPTER X. 

A FORTNIGHT passed. Mamie soon recovered, 
and was soon familiar with the surroundings, cus- 
toms and seclusiveness of the beautiful “Geth- 
semane” home; and her acquaintance with the 
Billions was fast ripening into a pleasant in- 
timacy. 

Mamie had decided many times since her re- 
covery to resume her strange wanderings, but 
Mrs. Billion’s motherly tenderness and wise sug- 
gestions prevailed upon her to stay with them. 
She promised to stay only an indefinite length of 
time, reserving the privilege of going away when 
she thought best. Another condition required of 
them was that they would not accept her as an 
equal member of the family, but allow her to en- 
gage in the domestic service of the place. Mrs. 
Billion could hardly agree to this, as she could see 
no reason for it. 

^^What, then, shall I do to reciprocate the favors 
that I shall receive from your kindness in permit- 
ting me to have a peaceful home with you ?” 

shall engage you as governess, to teach Lilian 
— my little angel of ^Gethsemane,’ — and to be with 
her as a companion in all her wanderings over 
these mountains. She has a peculiar desire to wau- 


CAIN. 


nr 


dor among the cliffs and along the streams of 
these mountains. Would you accept even as noble 
a work as that?^^ 

“I am so young, Mrs. Billion, and I have never 
engaged in any such service, but if you are willing 
to trust your child to my care, I shall, with God’s 
help, render myself worthy of the trust you place 
in me.” 

There was a pleasant expression on her face as 
she spoke these words. To be the little girl’s 
governess, and to be constantly associated with 
her, was more happiness than she had anticipated. 
However great was the work for so inexperienced 
a governess as she was, she was glad that the 
sweet, innocent child would be her protegee and 
companion. 

^Tt is fortunate that you have come to our 
house; we tried to engage a governess in Wash- 
ington, but no one would agree to come so far 
away. I am so glad to have you even as governess 
if you will ” 

H suppose you understand, Mrs. Billion, that 
my services are free ? I shall accept no compensa- 
tion for my work.” 

Why, Miss Homean, I intend to pay you cus- 
tomary wages at least.” 

^Tray do not insist, Mrs. Billion. It will only 
terminate in a controversy in which I shall per- 
sist to the very last.” She laughed. 

^^Well, we will decide about that another time,” 
said Mrs. Billion, good-humoredly. 

Mrs. Billion absented herself from the room to 
answer a call, and Mamie was left alone in the 
beautiful drawing-room. 


118 


CAIN. 


Presently she looked np from her meditative 
attitude, and noticed a richly-bound book lying 
on the center-table. Taking it up she noticed it 
to be a treatise on the ^‘Origin of Man” — a work 
in Evolution. She had always eagerly accepted 
every source of information, and of course she 
was soon lost in the perusal of its deep 
thoughts and strong logic. Though it seemed 
skeptical in the extreme, she clung to it as though 
she were studying the dreamy legends of Greek 
and Eoman mythology, which she had always de- 
lighted to read. 

As she bent over the book, oblivious to every- 
thing around her, she suddenly became aware of a 
strangeness creeping, as it were, through the silent 
room. For the first time, a faint idea of super- 
stition came into her mind. She looked and lis- 
tened. Though perfect silence reigned, she seemed 
to feel the presence of some recently-entered some- 
thing. Aroused to curiosity, she took the lamp 
and proceeded to make a quiet search. As she 
passed around the room, the lamp-light fiashed 
over the tall, glistening, fluted column, and she 
noticed a strange, unknovui inscription, beauti- 
fully engraved upon it. She made a close in- 
spection of all the surroundings. The walls glared 
before the light, and showed the Saracenic paint- 
ings upon it. Here and there hung large pictures 
of savage combats and horrible, bloody affrays; 
a crimson silk flag with a heavy fringe of gold 
surmounted with a gold disk with the name 
^‘^NOD” in it hung among the gentle breezes. 
Rich hangings gently swayed from their dignity- 
crowned heights; and around the beautiful Cor- 


CAIN. 


119 


inthian column, whose fluted exterior grinned 
with paralelled channels of pearl, and from the 
gloomy arches and walls, all moving as if beckon- 
ing the silence to draw near. There was some- 
thing grand in the architecture and skilful fur- 
nishings of the beautiful drawing-room. Yet Ma- 
mie shuddered, with a cold chill creeping over her 
person, as she replaced the lamp on the table. 

Mamie extinguished the light and emerged from 
the room, closed the door, and stood for a moment 
in the narrow-vaulted passage leading to the par- 
ticular suite of rooms. 

Above her, sweeping across the narrow passage, 
hung beautiful rich curtains that glistened with 
ten thousand tints of gold and diamonds. The 
single swinging lamp emitted a gloomy light, yet 
sufficient to reveal the luster of these various- 
colored curtains and their ornaments. She had 
never visited this apartment of the grand mansion, 
and she stood for several minutes, silently admir- 
ing it. 

She then passed across the passage and ap- 
proached the partly open door of still another 
apartment. Pushing the door open, she entered 
what seemed to her to be the abode of perpetual 
light. Her eyes were dazzled by its extreme bril- 
liancy. She found herself standing on the floor 
of a grand rotunda. It was magniflcent ! Only 
the celebrated rotunda at Home surpassed it in 
grandeur. 

She walked timidly across the floor to fountain 
that ejected a silver spray against the concave of 
a clear glass globe that fitted tightly over it. 
This was a marvel in beauty to look upon. She 


120 


CAIN. 


watched the water gather again into a clouded 
marble basin, from which it was conducted by a 
crystal glass tube running down to the floor and 
along till it reached the reservoir whence it came. 
This fountain was immediately under the great 
dome, and near it stood a billiard table with 
amethystine garnishings, while on the other side 
stood a flnely sculptured white marble table, inlaid 
with gems of aqua-marine beryl. On it, heaped up 
in profusion, was a collection of sea-shell, and 
these caught Mamie’s attention. 

While she examined them she discovered an ex- 
tra large shell, which she found upon examina- 
tion to have a miniature gold cavity inlaid, and a 
red onyx lid whose exterior surface grinned with 
the basso-relievo of Nero falling upon his sword. 
A very small aperture, faced with polished ivory, 
was evidence that it was a lid locked over a 
golden shrine. She turned it back and forth, scru- 
tinizing it from every relief to every shadowy 
crevice. As she looked at it, she noticed an in- 
scription on it. Along the pink concave of the 
shell-wing were these words in basso-relievo: 

‘A VAGABOND OF NOD.” 

She looked again and again at the exquisite 
construction of the novel ornament. She shook 
the shell, thinking that perhaps it would shake 
open the lid, but she failed. Then she proceeded 
to try a small kev, which she had suspended 
around her neck. There was a dull click, and in- 
stantly the lid flew open. There ! What could 
it be? Could it be possible! — ^that her own like- 


CAIN. 


121 


ness looked at her from a miniature photo lying 
near the top of the small shrine? Yes, it was a 
small photo — of her own likeness ! But how came 
these strange, secluded people with her picture? 

She removed the little picture, and under it, in 
the bottom of the shell-shrine, lay a small golden 
locket with a tiny golden chain coiled gracefully 
about it. By close inspection, she found it to be 
the very fac-simile of the one Leland had given her. 
Somewhere in her wanderings she had lost the one 
Leland had given her, and the sight of this little 
golden shrine brought back to her the painful 
memories of a time never to be again. 

Dashing away a single tear that had stolen 
down her pale cheeks she replaced everything, and 
locked the little shrine, then went quietly back 
into the narrow passage to the stairway that led 
to her bed-chamber. 

On the following morning, Lilian came running 
along the piazza to Mamie, who was reclining in 
a large arm-chair; and, throwing her arms about 
Mamie’s neck, she kissed her as a morning salu- 
tation. 

‘‘You must come with me on a morning ramble 
this morning,” she said, smiling. “I want to be 
your pilot and show you the wonders of this great 
mountain. We must gather the pretty wild roses 
and pansies and many other pretty flowers that 
adorn the hills and valleys of this strange re- 
cluse. Will you go?” 

“Oh, yes, I am to be your 

“Oh, yes, I know!” cried the girl, jumping up 
and down, and clapping her hands in glee. “I 
know it all! Mamma has told me. Oh, isn’t it 


122 


CAIN. 


delightful to think that you are my governess and 
that we shall be together all the time? Come! 
let’s go out among the flowers while they are fresh. 
Oh, the mountain is such a cool place among its 
dark, shaggy rocks and bluffs and narrow val- 
leys !” 

In a short time, Lilian and her governess were 
off toward the huge mountain, where the frowning 
bluffs grinned through the foliage of the trees 
and where ten thousand times ten thousand de- 
flecting echoes rebounded from the concave val- 
leys and the convex hillsides. 

Soon, they were lost from view as they pro- 
ceeded up the steep ascents. After some time, 
they made a toilsome ascent over craggy boulders 
and slippery rocks and reached the large spring, 
the source of the brook which meandered through 
the ^^Gethsemane” menagerie-meadow. A large 
vault, about seven feet by ten, and two feet deep, 
hewn from the center of a great rock in the cliff, 
marked the basin of the spring. The water source 
was from a small cave, and was conducted by a 
paved channel into the basin. There was not a 
beaten path about the place. All appeared as 
though it were an unfrequented, lost, deserted re- 
sort of ancient antiquity. 

They rested themselves ; and, with a small china 
mug which they had brought along with them, 
they dipped up the very cold water and quaffed 
it heartily. Their faces were flushed, owing to 
the exertion which they had been obliged to un- 
dergo, and they bathed their faces in the cool 
water that rippled in a clear stream from the 
vault. While they rested, Lilian exclaimed in 


CAIN. 123 

perfect delight, as if some pleasant memory had 
come to her: 

Oh, this is the place where I found a large, 
beautiful shell one day when I was wandering 
about over the mountain, and found this beautiful 
place. I have never told father or mother where I 
found the shell. I tell you because I love you and 
because you seem at times to be unhappy, and I 
want you to feel like you have a trusting friend.’’ 
She kissed the hand that she fondled, and con- 
tinued : “I though you would enjoy this beautiful 
scenery. But as I was going to tell — I was stand- 
ing near the edge of the vault, looking down into 
the water, when I caught sight of something like 
a shell lying on the bottom of the vault. With a 
crooked stick I managed to fish it out; and what 
do you reckon it was?” A mischievous sparkle 
danced in her eyes as she made the playful in- 
quiry. 

^‘You have already told me it was a shell,” and 
Mamie became somewhat flushed at the remem- 
brance of the shell that she had found in the 
rotunda. Perhaps the little girl knew some mys- 
tery of the contents of the shrine. 

‘‘Oh, yes, I did ! Oh, it had such a pretty little 
casket fastened in it, with a beautiful red onyx 
lid on it. It was locked, and we have never been 
able to unfasten it. I carried it home and placed 
it with some pretty shells on the table in the ro- 
tunda. I will take you in and show them to you 
when we return.” 

“Did you say you cannot open it ?” asked Mamie 
eagerly. 

“Yes, ma’am.” 


124 


CAIN. 


Mamie laughed. She was much relieved. 

After they had rested, they arose and descended 
into a long, narrow valley that widened as they 
descended until it spread out into a broad plain, 
shaded darkly with large spreading trees. Here 
they came upon a pretty silver-gray fawn stand- 
ing knee-deep in a clear pool of water. At the 
sight of them it bounded away, and was soon lost 
in the dark, silent valley. 

They passed on and on till they came to the 
bend of the creek where it leaped from its smooth 
valley bed down the rugged mountain. They un- 
fastened a boat there, and entering it, rowed up 
stream, beguiling the hour by laughing and sing- 
ing and telling quaint old legendary tales. As 
they passed on, Lilian, struck by a strange, child- 
like idea, asked: 

^^Did you ever think that the little rippling 
brooks and rivulets laugh to themselves, especially 
when they are under the shade of a large tree? 
And the little flowers, they seem to be smiling all 
the time as they nod among the breezes and up- 
turn their soft petals to the sun? Do they not?^’ 

Mamie smileL ^T think so, dear Lilian. It is 
pleasant to think they do ! I am almost sure that 
they do.” 

Lilian smiled and nodded with an air of satis- 
faction. 

“That is right,” she observed. “It would never 
do to leave them to grow without a purpose. And 
the little streams — ^they are emblems of happiness. 
I love the pretty flowers and I love the flowing 
streams that tumble down the hillsides as if they 


CAIN. 125 

are playing like I do sometimes when I am up 
here by myself/^ 

“Lilian, do you like the mountain life better 
than city life?’^ inquired Mamie testily. 

“Oh, much better. Here I can have my way. 
Here my playmates — the pretty flowers, the little 
white fleecy lambs, and pet fawns — do not hurt 
my feelings. When they once love me, they love 
me always.^’ She paused, and lifted up her sweet, 
pensive eyes to Mamie’s and continued in that 
wild-like, joyous tone: 

“And since you have come, I have learned how 
to love. Do you know that I love you, Mamie? 
I have always wanted to call you that.” 

The tears trickled down her cheeks in cr}'stal 
drops. Mamie did not speak just then, but lifted 
the child in her arms, strained her to her heart; 
and for one silent moment one might conjecture 
that the angels joined in the love-feast of that 
holy hour. It was a holy silence. One during 
which the melody of the rippling, gurgling waters 
murmured in sweet anthems as they unrolled 
themselves in silvery bands and bright folds along 
under a deep, green canopy. Then like the stray 
chime of a lost note returning its harmony, 
Mamie’s voice mingled with the murmuring an- 
them : 

“I have always wanted you to call me Mamie. 
May God be praised, I have one little friend I 
And I love you too, Lilian.” 

At length they reached a landing-place where 
the creek banks smiled with a few purple-leafed 
pansies nodding gravely, with that quaint expres- 
sion of their legendary physiognomy. When 


126 


CAIN 


Lilian had stepped out upon the bank, she begun 
plucking them as if a wild, ecstatic impulse had 
suddenly seized her. When she had plucked a 
pretty bouquet, she dipped it into the cold water, 
lifted it out to see the clear, spherical drops trick- 
ling over the leaves and falling back into the water 
again, and she cried with a joyous laugh: 

‘‘'See, they do not murmur when I pick them. 
They know they must die, but they only weep 
silently like they do now. See the tears falling. 
But they are glad because they are making me 
happy. Ah, what true friends!’^ She pressed 
them to her lips. 

They proceeded to the top of a steep eminence. 

Mamie’s face lighted up with enthusiasm as 
she looked out over the vast landscape which 
spread out below them like the poet’s vision in 
the dreamy, distant haze. They could see the one 
solitary village about fifteen miles away as it stood 
in the mystic maze of the distant blue. Far down 
the mountain side they could see their beautiful 
home standing like an ancient black and white 
marble temple buried in the wilds of an unfre- 
quented mountain wilderness. Its glittering spire 
stood far up in the ethereal depths like a haughty 
sentinel guarding the fortresses of its wealth and 
aristocracy. They looked long and earnestly at 
the enchanting scenes below. 


CAIN. 


127 


CHAPTER XL 

"Father and mother will get impatient about 
ns if we do not hurry back/^ said Lilian, after a 
short silence. "I shall tell you more about this 
strange place when we get home, where you will 
be better prepared to listen to me.^^ 

They left the silent place and went away. They 
went back to the rock-vaulted spring to rest a 
while. They were resting and observing the 
many-colored heavens with silent admiration, 
when a horse and its rider galloped right up to 
them. The rider, a man, reined in his horse and 
scarcely in time to keep him from leaping on 
them. 

"Whoa, here ! You damned Canadian he 
yelled in a gruff, angry tone. When the excited 
animal became quieted, the man put his hand over 
his eyes to shade them from the sun, while he 
looked across a ravine as if he were looking for 
some one. Then suddenly a savage glare leaped 
into his eyes, and a thickening scowl that bent his 
brows foreboded that a tempest was raging in his 
heart. He looked away, then back, uttered a wild 
mountain halloo that startled Lilian. Then he 
drew a revolver from his hunting jacket, waved it 
above his head, then brought it to a level and fired 


C I K . 


128 

a six-shot volley almost instantaneously. Lilian 
screamed, and fell into her governess’s arms, and 
shrieked and screamed and shrieked again. 

“My dear sir, please do not do that again,” 
pleaded the governess. “You will surely consider. 
You will frighten this child into delirium.” Her 
soul pleaded, her eyes pleaded, and her rich voice 
pleaded ; and as the man looked at her more 
closely, the scowl vanished from his brow, and a 
tender, penitent look shone there, which Lilian 
and her governess never forgot. 

“You will please pardon me,” he requested, 
kindly. “It could hardly be avoided.” He 
turned, with an uneasy look in the direction in 
which he had been shooting. He looked long and 
earnestly, while the original dark scowl drew its 
dreary, desolate look over his face. At last he 
turned to them and requested the little mug, that 
he might get him a drink. They handed it to 
him; and after he had drunk heartily, and he 
handed it back to them with an expression of 
thanks, he hurriedly mounted his horse and used 
rein, drew his cap over his savage eyes, and rode 
off a short distance. Suddenly he stopped, turned 
his horse, and rode back. He looked at them as 
if endeavoring to trace some recognition of their 
faces. He would fain have spoken to them, but 
instead he uttered a few words in a strange tongue 
to himself. They were frightened, but tried 
to appear bold and fearless. The stranger noticed 
this, and a sarcastic smile curled his lips as he 
bowed low and haughtily and turned away. They 
noticed the strange pallor that crept from chin to 
temple over his savage visage. Soon he was far 


CAIN 


129 


down the road, and the clatter of the galloping 
steed’s ringing hoofs could be heard far away, 
commingling with the crowded echoes of the rocks 
and timbers, and once more the six-shot discharge 
startled them with the horrible report. When the 
clattering hoofs could be heard no more, Lilian 
turned with her startled face to Mamie’s, and both 
spoke simultaneously: 

^^His face seems familiar.” 

They passed down the mountain toward home. 

That night, after they had retired to rest, 
Mamie fancied she slept, but she only woke to find 
it a vain effort. As she lay with closed eyes, the 
dark figure of a man would appear before her, 
and she seemed to hear his wild mountain halloo 
coming through the silence. She did not sleep — 
she did but ponder. 

One morning the governess and her pupil were 
in the library, studiously engaged in reading. 

Just then Mrs. Billion glided into the room 
like a haughty princess. 

^^What do you think, my dear children,” she 
began, — ^Tor children I must call you both; — Mr. 
Billion has just received a notice from the owner 
of this home to vacate it some time in the near 
future. Then we must go back to our home in 
Washington.” 

^^Oh, mamma, what are you saying? Surely we 
cay stay here, — papa can buy it if he will. Oh, 
how can I leave this beautiful mountain home? 
Please, mamma, ask papa to buy it !” She en- 
twined her arms about her mother’s neck, and 
pleaded with all the earnestness a child can ex** 
press. 


130 


CAIN. 


darling,” said the mother soothingly, 
'^don’t cry. You will be happy after you shall 
have been away from here a while.” 

^^Oh, no, there is no such a place on earth as 
this one!” She covered her face with her hands, 
and pressed it against her mother’s bosom. ‘^Oh, 
Mamie 1” she cried to her governess, with a half- 
smothered appeal, ‘Vill you still be the true friend 
you have always been, and ask papa to stay here? 
Oh, just for my sake, won’t you?” 

‘^My dear little trusting friend, I would be glad 
to do anything for you that is best. I think your 
mother would be more influential than I could 
be.” 

The child made no answer, but wept on, while 
Mrs. Dillion and the governess engaged in con- 
versation. 

suppose, Mamie, you are familiar with all 
the apartments of this building?” 

^‘Most all of them.” 

^Then, doubtless, you have wondered at the 
hoary associations connected with the many 
rooms. You have noticed the combined character- 
istics of the hoary chambers and the signiflcance 
of their numerous relics that render them each a 
specimen of some ancient art gallery.” 

^^Yes, I have rather taken a fancy to them. 
There are such varied illustrations and suggestions 
to be drawn from their unique excellency and 
singularness of antiquity.” 

is all these peculiarities that enhance the 
novelty of this mountain recluse. The singulari- 
ties associated with it are very much in keeping 
with its uniqueness and seclusiveness, I think.” 


CAIN. 


131 


Mamie nodded, and with a strange tone of 
melancholy in her voice, said: ‘^Yes, I think I 
should like to live here always, — here all is quiet — 
all is peace — all is love — all is simple; — nature 
soothes the aching heart; and: 

« < « He * gayer hours she speaks. 

She has a voice of gladness and a smile 
And eloquence of beauty, and she glides 
Into one's darker musings with a wild 
And healing sympathy, that steals away 
Their sharpness ere one is aware.' 

I love all the associations of this beautiful home.” 

don’t suppose the owner of this valuable 
property half realized how beautiful, how ex- 
cellent, his choice of a quiet and secluded resort 
was till he had accomplished all the plans of this 
peaceful paradise.” 

am sure he was a lonely man of sorrows; 
these quiet groves, the still long summer days, 
the sweet, sweet, soothing voices of nature, and the 
seclusiveness of this beautiful, enchanting home 
are the many excellences mingled into one virtue 
which is the consolation that a dying, hungry 
soul seeks and craves. No doubt he was sad and 
weary, and longed for rest and sought peace in 
this wild mountain wilderness.” 

‘^Mamie, you seem so sad at times. If there is 
any shadow of trouble darkening your life won’t 
you confide your sorrows to me? Perhaps I can 
help you.” 

A mist of tears shone in the governess’s wist- 


132 


CAIN. 


ful eyes as she shook her head silently and lifted 
her hand to enjoin silence. 

That night, after the weary hours of study were 
over, Mamie rose from her desk and left the lib- 
rary just as a little clock in a distant room chimed 
the lonely hour of midnight. An intense silence 
brooded over the home. 

As she was about to cross the narrow vaulted 
passage, she paused to look at the grim visage of 
the woman Thug which grinned hideously from 
the wall in the distant rotunda. She had just 
finished the pathetic, tragical story of Heera LalFs 
daughter Luchmunea, who fell a victim to the 
woman Thug of India — how the cruel woman 
strangled the beautiful daughter with a thin cord, 
then to inflict greater violence she drew the brace- 
lets over her hands and the anklets over her feet; 
and when she saw that hideous face, she thought 
of that awful story, and a shudder crept over her. 

While she stood there, she heard a quick sound 
like two billiard balls clashing together. She 
listened breathlessly a moment ; all was silent. 
She sighed deeply, and just then a quick shadow 
fell across the ribbon of light which streamed 
through the partly open door. She held her 
breath still another moment, but saw not the 
shadow nor heard the sound again. But, as she 
was about to turn away, a quick rustling of the 
rich folds which shrouded a recess in the wall was 
seen and heard. She saw' the flicker of a noctil- 
lica, then all was silent again. She was not 
frightened the least bit, but a feeling of apprehen- 
sion came over her, and she turned abruptly away 
to her room with a feeling that confirmed her 


CAIN. 


133 


former suspicion and superstition. She spent a 
sleepless night thinking of all the singular ex- 
periences that she had undergone during her life, 
and especially since she had come to that home. 
She did not believe in ghosts; what could it all 
have been? 

A few weeks later, Lilian and her governess 
were just returning from an evening stroll, and 
were entering the Hades Gate, when they looked 
up suddenly, to see a carriage coming up the 
road. Some one in the carriage waved a hand- 
kerchief for them to wait, which they did, and 
when the carriage drove up to the gate, the 
familiar voice of Mr. Dillion greeted them. He 
was just returning from a hunting trip which had 
kept him away about two weeks. Lilian hurried 
to meet him, and throwing her arms about his 
neck, she welcomed him with a loving kiss. 

'^Oh, father, I am so glad to see you again ! It 
seems like an age since you went away.'’' 

'^Yes, darling, it seems like a long time, but 
the Prodigal hath returned.” 

He lifted his hat and shook hands with the 
governess, and after dismissing the driver, turned 
with them into the house. 

Lilian was all joy, and talked and laughed 
gleefully as they went inn. After a welcome kiss 
from Mrs. Dillion, he sat down to the supper 
which had just been prepared. A hearty meal was 
disposed of, and a draught of wine enlivened his 
lips and invigorated his person. 

“There is no comparison between our wines and 
those of the grand canon regions. This wine is 
so delicious.” And Mr. Dillion smacked his lips. 


134 


CAIN. 


your sport this season as enjoyable and 
successful as at other times?” asked Mrs. Dillion. 

“Oh, our success was abundant, you know,” and 
he laughed. 

“Papa, tell us about your hunting, prospecting 
and so on.” 

“Well,” he began, “I cannot say that I met with 
anything that very greatly displeased me. How- 
ever, I saw more of the evil side of the world 
than on previous tours. Of course I was grieved 
to see men entangled with the vipers of sin, which 
coiled about them in their wicked revelries. 
While I was at the little town of Williams, many 
nights I have listened to the wicked revelries in 
the gambling rooms above me. Their excessive 
hilarity would increase as the night would pass 
away, till their midnight orgies and habitual ex- 
cesses would become unbearable. So you see I 
meant the converse of what I said when I said 
that I met with nothing that very greatly dis- 
pleased me.” 

Lilian laughed. 

“Mamma, it would not be like papa if he did 
not say something backward. I’ll venture he can 
rehearse the Lord’s Prayer backward.” 

“Now, Mr. Dillion, you have pictured to us the 
dark side; can’t you interest us with something 
beautiful ?” 

“Oh, certainly,” he answered, as he moistened 
his lips with more wine, “any one blessed with the 
gift of endurance can make a heaven out of a 
briar-patch. I saw many things that greatly 
pleased me. * * * Several of our party had 
their Bibles along, and every night we engaged 


CAIN. 


135 


in a beautiful, pleasant devotional service to God. 
On Sunday we had Sunday-school. After we all 
separated, one of our party and I went to the 
noted Pike’s Peak. As we ascended, we soon found 
ourselves in the midst of a tremendous electric 
shower. The slightest movements of our hands or 
arms or of a twig would generate a burst of elec- 
tric showers. It was beautiful to see. From our 
position, we could see a beautiful landscape. We 
could see the great plains stretching out before 
us, dotted here and there with towns and villages 
and crossed with meandering ribbons of streams 
as they unrolled their silvery bands along the 
plains till they faded in the distant haze. So after 
all, I had a joyful time.” 

^T’ll venture it was pleasant to be at your little 
Sunday-school,” said Lilian carelessly and half to 
herself, as she looked dreamily away at the after- 
glow of the sunset. 

The breezes crept into the room, bringing with 
them the odors of the wild flowers and the re- 
freshment of its cooling properties. The day had 
been extremely hot. But now the slumbering 
breezes seemed to have awakened from their ^^flow- 
ery beds of ease” among the blossoms, to wind 
among the drooping tendrils, to fall tenderly upon 
the withered blossoms, and to sweep through the 
foliage of the shade-trees with a lively ebb and 
flow. They came through the open window, mur- 
muring a sweet, gentle carol. 

After a short time, the happy group repaired to 
their respective rooms to rest. 

As Mamie went down the narrow corridor to 
her room, she heard Lilian play a parting lay on 


136 


CAIN. 


the piano, and as the sweet chimes drifted to her 
hearing, she murmured: 

" 0, well for the fortunate soul 
Which music's wings unfold. 

Stealing away the memory 
Of sorrows new and old!" 

A strange smile flitted across her pale counte- 
nance, and she went on to her room. 


CAIN. 


137 


CHAPTER XIL 

One beautiful midsummer evening, Mamie was 
alone in the flower-garden. She had just flnished 
hearing her pupil’s recitations, and had walked 
out for a mild exercise in physical culture. While 
she wandered among the pretty flowers, ambition 
seized her, and the wonderful inspiration of a 
divine purpose tilled her soul. She had long 
since discovered her duty, and had endeavored in 
every way to duly equip herself with a perfect 
knowledge of personal and social ethics. She had 
already, to a great extent, formed for herself a 
course of ethic discourses and lectures, yet she had 
a more noble, more elevating purpose than this. 
Her childhood dream had been to live in purely 
devoted service to God. She had been molested 
for several years, but now that dream came back 
with a sweeter inspiration. She wanted to labor 
for the Master. She hoped some day to outlive 
the blight of her life, and to do so, it was neces- 
sary to endow herself with learning and natural 
superiority over those who had rejected her. 
Here, she found a pleasant home, furnished with 
every advantage requisite to a home-study edu- 
cation. Here she found a crowded library to 
which she was cordially granted access. 


138 


CAIN. 


After inhaling the fragrance of the pretty flow- 
ers and kissing them good-night, she wandered 
out through the garden to the house, where she 
took a seat upon a sofa in a cool, shady place on 
the piazza. She had procured in the library a 
copy from the Greek books, and here she spent 
the quiet late afternoon reading from ^^Organon 
of Aristotle.’^ She became deeply absorbed in the 
philosophic arrangement of it. The skilful ar- 
rangement of its body of rules compiled in the 
book for investigation deeply interested her, and 
it was growing late in the evening when she 
closed the volume and rose from her seat. She 
walked to the opening in the cluster of vines that 
stretched from column to column along the piazza. 
Placing her elbows upon the banisters, and resting 
her face in her hand she looked out upon the 
beautiful sunset scene. 

As the sun went down the polystyle aisles of the 
grand mountain forest colonnade stretching west- 
ward, filled first with a golden haze, then changed 
to a glaring sea of crimson sunbeams; and only 
the weird, mournful song of a cooing dove stirred 
the silence as the breezes whispered a pensive 
lullaby to the dying day; and as the busy echoes 
ceased their frolicsome flight and sank to rest in 
the black solitude of craggy bluffs and crowded 
forests, the cool night crept like a myriad host of 
invisible fairies on a soothing mission over the 
tranquil valley of ‘^Gethsemane.” 

To one bearing the burden of a shamed life 
there, perhaps, is a strong suggestiveness in such 
scenes as Mamie now admired. At least Mamie, 
though innocent, felt the tide of painful memo- 


GAIN. 


139 


ries sweeping back over her heart from the blurred 
and checkered past. A chilly sensation caused her 
to shudder as she remembered the last time she had 
ever heard of Leland; how it was that on her re- 
turn to her boarding-house that evening when she 
had been to meet Alton Tolliver, Leland had been 
there and had inquired for her ; how it was that he 
never came back to see her again; how he had 
ceased to write to her; how it was that she had 
heard that he had fallen a victim to dissipation in 
New York because of lost confidence in a ^Voman 
who had deceived him” ; and how it w^as that at last 
she had wandered away from all whom she loved 
and had gone to New York in search of him that 
she might rescue him if she could. Then she re- 
membered how hopelessly she had failed to find 
him and had given him up as lost. But somehow 
.‘she felt that she had been wrongly informed, and 
that Leland was yet, if living, the same true, af- 
fectionate lover. But it was weakness to brood 
over the remorse of an unchangeable past. She 
dashed away the tears from her eyes and turned 
into the house and went to her room. 

Her aspiration was to propagate the religion of 
her faith. She would endeavor to bury the past 
forever and begin anew. 

She was sitting by her window, looking out at 
the beautiful dream of night, while in her mind 
plans were forming and maturing. For hours 
she sat there, thinking how to begin her new life. 
At last she rose, paced the floor. Her eyes kindled 
and her heart throbbed violently as ambition pic- 
tured to her a possible glorious future. She must 
begin humbly, but her work would gradually at- 


140 


CAIN. 


tain higher and higher to the zenith of fame, and, 
best of all, to the crowning glory of the Saviour’s 
blessing! The spring-time of her youth had not 
yet gone, and she could yet accomplish the great 
purpose of her life. What might not the unroll- 
ing years unfold to her ? She bowed her head and 
prayed : 

^^0, merciful Lord, make me a fit servant of 
thine. Give me strength to do thy will. Purify 
my soul, 0 Lord, and sanctify my heart to thee. 
^Set a watch, 0 Lord, before my mouth; keep 
the door of my lips.’ Fill my soul with thy love 
divine, and help me to trust the precious merits 
of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, and to feel 
that for his sake our sins are forgiven, and that 
our souls are blessed. Then save us all at last 
with all the redeemed of thine. I ask it all in the 
name of Jesus. Amen.” 

She did not retire then, but started to a library 
in an upper chamber to procuro a book which she 
wished to look over before she retired. She had 
entered the magnificent rotunda on her way. This 
apartment was aflame with light. 

She passed noiselessly over the fioor and began 
to ascend the beautiful spiral staircase which 
coiled its way to the loftiest apartment in the 
building. She had never been up this staircase 
at night, consequently she knew nothing of the 
novelty of the spectacle such an ascension pre- 
sented. She paused now and then to look down 
at the apartment whence she had come. She 
smiled as she looked down upon ten thousand 
times ten thousand sparkling reflections and glit- 
tering golden knobs and shining pedestals. She 


CAIN. 


141 


saw the beautiful billiard table, the table of shells, 
and the fountain globe and its circling pool that 
shimmered its golden reflections like the wave- 
lets of a golden sea. All this beautiful, still, mo- 
tionless stereoscopic scene was a suggestion of all 
that was grand and beautiful. To Mamie they 
were testimonials of the ancient glory of Solo- 
mon’s Temple. The brilliant light of the many 
chandeliers streamed from the luminous centers 
out upon the silent grandeur of the palace rotunda 
below, making it a scene of ineffable beauty. As 
she gazed upon the scene a feeling of enthusiasm 
seized her. There she saw the beauty of art as 
she had seen it in nature. She had often thought, 
— as many fanatics do — that an expenditure of 
one’s wealth in the construction of costly man- 
sions was a wilful, sinful waste and a wicked 
prodigality. But she could not see it in such an 
inconsistent way now. Why was it wrong? Was 
not the building of Babylon, once the grandest 
ancient city in the world, a vast expenditure of 
wealth, time and labor? Babylon was once a city 
wherein the Spirit of Almightly God reigned for 
a season; and, if its people had not fallen so 
deeply into sin and dissipation, it would never 
have fallen a victim to the wrath of God. It 
was not the grandeur of the city that led them 
astray, for all that soon lost its charm. It was 
their wicked desire to live in sinful excesses and 
heathenish reveling. Again, the temple of Solo- 
mon owed its existence to the Divine Will and 
the command of God, and was it not the grandest 
building in the world? 

No, indeed, there could be no evil in anything 


142 


CAIN. 


that was beautiful or grand. Every grand edi- 
fice is a ^Temple of Thought” ; every novel display 
of human skill is a holy, magnificent dream. It 
is but the development of the progressive mind 
of man, and there is a grand, holy inspiration in 
such development. 

At length she turned her intent gaze from the 
brilliant sea below her, and went on to the small 
library. Here she found a collection of ancient 
literature. After she had been searching for some 
time, and as she was about to close a volume she 
had been reading, she noticed a beautiful card 
that had fallen from the book upon the floor. 
She took it up, and after scrutinizing it carefully, 
she noticed the initials of some one’s name beau- 
tifully gilded upon it. The letters were C. L. B., 
and just beneath them, in excellent handwriting, 
were these words: 

The person, of whom these letters are the ini- 
tials, i^ an archangel of both ancient and modren 
infidelity! Beware! The soft sentimental Chris- 
tian who ventures under the tread of his merci- 
less feet! Beware! C. L. B. 

On the summit of the Ural Mountains, Tibe- 
rias, Asia, 18 — . 


Mamie was puzzled. What strange language. 
Who could it be? And why should such a card 
have strayed from Asia to that strange, secluded 
place? This was another mystery about the home, 
and it confirmed her superstitious ideas about it. 
But it was too intricate for her to iiscern, and 
after replacing the book, she closed the door of 


CAIN. 


143 


the library and descended again amid the glory 
that had previously received her admiring gaze 
and recognition. 

She at last retired to rest. But before she 
closed her eyes in sleep, she thought of Leland. 
She fancies that she knew some way by that mys- 
terious power of telepathy that he was still liv- 
ing and that he was living close to Jesus and 
would some day come to her after all the toil and 
sorrow and care were past. And with this conso- 
lation, she closed her eyes in tranquil sleep. 

Ah, poor child of mortality ! The sedative voice 
of the sweetly singing Siren hath lulled thee to 
sleep under the cruel, yet apparently soothing 
wave of a seductive influence and deception. 
Then sleep on, 0 child of Fate, and snatch from 
slumber land the passing joys; but awake, 0 
awake, and face the dread catastrophe, for it must 
surely come ! 

When Mamie awoke, the sunlight was stream- 
ing into her room, and the voices of birds were 
merry among the trees and flowers. This morn- 
ing Mr. Billion and Lilian went to the village 
on a shopping errand, and Mrs. Billion and 
Mamie were left alone with the servants. Mamie 
spent the forenoon very pleasantly with Mrs. Bil- 
lion, and after a hearty dinner was disposed of, 
she told Mrs. Billion that she desired to be absent 
a short while that evening, and soon the little 
black buggy and black pony were brought around 
for her. 

There was a small settlement of cottagers in 
the valley just a few miles away, and it was in 
this vicinity that Mamie purposed to begin her 


I 


144 


CAIN. 


work. That was her mission this evening. First, 
she meant to make them a visit. 

After a little drive, she was driving through the 
dreary settlement, and she halted in front of an 
old time-worn cottage. She went in, and kindly 
introduced herself to the inmates — only one little 
girl and her grandmother. To Mamie they pre- 
sented the appearance of a desolate household. 
Charity had not frequented the home. Mamie 
made herself familiar with them at once. She 
talked to them as friend to friend, entering into 
their tears and sorrow with sincere sympathy. 

‘^Why do you all live so lonely in this neigh- 
borhood?’’ Mamie asked sympathetically. 

have lived this way for many lonely years,” 
answered the woman sorrowfully. “Perhaps you 
do not know the circumstances which brought 
‘Lonely Vicinity,’ our community, to its state of 
loneliness, desolation and poverty.” 

“I have never heard.” 

“Then, I’ll briefly tell you. Many years ago, 
this ‘Lonely Vicinity’ was a flourishing little 
town. The old dilapidated church which you 
passed on your way here was the first building of 
any consequence which was ever built here. This 
vailey was a beautiful place then, and soon be- 
came noted far and wide for its loveliness. Soon 
settlers from the north and northeast flocked to 
the garden spot. In a few years, an enterprising, 
beautiful town had grown up. A strong religious 
society was organized, and as the little town grew, 
this wonderful organization developed rapidly. 
My husband was the pastor of the church before 
we married, and after we were married, he was 


CAIN. 


145 


called away on a missionary tour. I went and 
returned with him. All was happiness, love and 
peace until a band of ruffians from the mining 
regions of Nevada came into our little town and 
began to disturb the peace. They were well edu- 
cated in all the vices of the age, and of course 
began to instigate their corrupt manners in the 
minds and hearts of the good moral young men 
and boys. They put up saloons and gambling 
houses and indulged in the most wicked revelries 
that the mind can imagine. They soon led the 
young men astray. Then began a terrible reign 
of horror and bloodshed ! Men on horses clanned 
together and rode through the town, yelling with 
drunkenness and shooting people down as they 
went! A shadow of hell hovered over the ruined 
town. In the midst of it my husband was shot 
down one night as he was on his way home. I was 
left alone with my only child, the mother of this 
child before us. At last many good citizens left 
the town. Finally, one night, a larger portion of 
the town was set on fire. Ah, 1^11 never forget 
that awful night when I saw and heard women 
and children screaming and crying for refuge as 
they ran along the streets horr^dess and in poverty. 
Only a few buildings survived the flames, some of 
which still stand as the old land-marks. The 
town was never rebuilt. The outlaws vanished; 
and ever after that the town has been scorned 
and detested by all the world that knew it. They 
call it ^Lonely Vicinity.^ We who still live here 
barely subsist on our labor’s earnings, and it is 
always as still and lonely as it is this quiet after- 
noon.” 


146 


CAIN. 


had heard,” said Mamie, ^^about your lone- 
liness and friendlessness, and that is why I came 
among yon. I want to help you all. I love people 
who are bowed down in sorrow. I love to help 
them to feel happy. Now you need a Sunday- 
school and a pastor in this ^Lonely Vicinity.^ ” 

The woman, whose name was Mrs. Harum, 
looked at her with tears in her eyes, and said: 

^^God give us back our good old days of Chris- 
tianity !” 

‘T have come to organize a Sunday-school, and 
I want everybody to come together and help me. 
I have asked the Lord to help us, and He has 
promised. He will restore this down-cast people 
again.” 

She talked a long time with them and when she 
started away, she was requested cordially to visit 
them as often as she could. 

She made her way to many other lonely homes, 
and ingratiated herself into their friendship in the 
same sweet manner. Many of them were homes 
that were destitute of the comforts and blessings 
of less needy people. This fact made it a field of 
duty in which she could labor. 

After many visits and hearty invitations for her 
return, she told them good-by, and returned to 
her home, a happier girl than she had ever been 
before. What a joy it was to make some one 
happy! She was glad to work for the happiness 
of others. 

When she returned to Gethsemane she saw that 
Lilian had returned and was playing with her pet 
fawn, her beloved Dongola, and she came nearly 


CAIN. 147 

upon them before they were aware of her pres- 
ence. 

^^hy, Mamie, where have you been ?” ex- 
claimed the girl in glee as she rose and kissed her 
governess. “Oh, I was so disappointed when I re- 
turned and found you gone.” 

“I have been off on an afternoon drive, and I 
stayed longer than I intended. I hope you have 
enjoyed your trip.” 

“Oh, yes, I enjoyed it very much.” 

They walked into the house in answer to the 
silver bell that summoned them to the evening re- 
past. 

Mamie made two or three visits to the “Lonely 
Vicinity” every week, and every Sunday morning 
the good people met her at the old church and 
joined in a happy Sunday-school service. 

It was a delightful work for Mamie. The 
world grew brighter about her. New blessings 
crowded upon her. In fact, in every one she saw 
a blessing. She could 


yo feed 

With lofty thoughts, that neither evil tongues. 
Rash judgments, nor the sneers of selfish men. 
Nor greetings where no kindness is — nor all 
The dreary intercourse of daily life 
Shall e*er prevail against us, or disturb 
Our cheerful faith, that all which we behold 
Is full of blessing*' 

At the close of the summer, Mr. Dillion began 
to make arrangements to leave “Gethsemane.” He 
and his wife had decided to spend the winter in 


148 


CAIN. 


Europe before returning to Washington. Lilian 
chose to stay with her governess, who was to stay 
at Gethesmane till the gentleman from the East 
came over to occupy it, after which she would 
move to “Lonely Vicinity,’^ close to her work. 
Lilian agreed to meet her parents in Washing- 
ton the following spring if they would let her 
stay at the beautiful home she loved so well. 

The day arrived for Mr. Billion and his wife to 
take their departure, and with sorrow they bade 
farewell to their happy mountain home and went 
away. Little they knew of the eventful chapter 
that would intervene between their departure and 
their return. 

. Lilian and her governess were left to enjoy the 
pleasures of Gethsemane alone. They beguiled 
the lonely hours by wandering over the wild, 
rugged mountains, and in visiting “Lonely Vi- 
cinity.’^ 

Soon after Mr. and Mrs. Billion had departed 
the newcomers made their appearance at Geth- 
semane. To the surprise of the governess and her 
protegee there were only two of them, — a gentle- 
man and an elderly lady. 

Lilian and her governess were standing on the 
beautiful granite steps when they saw the carriage 
cross the little brown bridge, and when it arrived 
at the Hades gate, and the two came into the 
yard, Mamie smiled dreamily, and murmured to 
herself, “His walk seems familiar.” 

The gentleman lifted his hat as he approached 
the ladies, and stopped and cast a quick glance at 
them. They slightly drew back as they both rec- 
ognized the gentieman whom they had met at the 


CAIN. 


149 


mountain spring. He introduced himself as Mr. 
Cain, then he acquainted them with his aunt, Mrs. 
Harwell. Then, pushing his hat back from his 
scowling brow and haughtily glancing at the gild- 
ed letters over the marble archway he curled his 
lips, turned to the ladies, and pointing his finger 
at the letters laughed wickedly. 

“Gethsemane he exclaimed with an oath, 
“that sounds as if this had been the abode of some 
insane saint. ^Gethsemane indeed. As if that 
noble character of biblical fiction did really agon- 
ize those fabulous drops of blood upon this mock- 
sacred spot ! 1^11 revise the title of this mansion 

ere long. So, go into the house, you ladies; ITl 
return in a short time.” 

He turned to leave, when Mrs. Harwell de- 
tained him. 

“Pray, do retract those wicked words of criti- 
cism upon the blessed story of our Lord.” 

She pleaded momfully, but he pulled away 
from her, with eyes aflame with wrath, and 
walked sullenly away. 

Mamie and Lilian conducted the lady into the 
drawing-room, where they spent some time in 
pleasant conversation. Lilian looked sympatheti- 
cally at her. Traces of care and anxiety lingered 
on her features and lurked in her eyes. Although 
a woman of proud bearing, she had a sad face, 
upon which no smile ever freely played, and from 
which a dread, glaring despair and hopelessness 
gleamed. 

“I suppose,” began the governess, “you are 
quite worn out with such a toilsome journey, arq 
you not?” 


150 


CAIN. 


^^Yes, I am surprised at myself that my con- 
stitution met all the demands of weariness im- 
posed upon it. I do, indeed, feel very much ex- 
hausted.^’ 

understand you and the gentleman have 
come all the way from the eastern part of Ti- 
berias.” 

'^Yes, you might say we have come all the way 
from Nowhere to this place.” 

"You seem to have a dislike for the place, 
then?” 

"I should think such a novel trip would be de- 
lightful,” put in Lilian. 

"I did enjoy it when we first landed, but I soon 
grew weary of the strange, dull place. And be- 
sides that, it was the purpose of the trip that 
pained me. Sometimes I would become so low- 
spirited that the loneliest place to be found was 
the most consoling and comforting. I remember 
of once landing in the Loess Beds of the Yellow 
Eiver, China, and residing there with the pagan 
natives in their cave-dug homes. Though we had 
to be very shrewd about intruding upon Chinese 
soil, we found no difficulty in finding a hearty 
welcome into their homes. I found great consola- 
tion in listening to their legendary narratives and 
to their stories of the destructive river which 
they called ^Chinese Sorrow.’ Although their 
homes were wholly rustic, their customs and man- 
ners were not altogether so rude. They were neat 
and intelligent in their way, and exceptionally 
kind. But finally, all this lost its charm with 
me, and since then I have been a wanderer, bear- 
ing the tortures of a never-ending discontent.” 


CAIN. 


151 


perhaps the solitude of this place will be 
more consolatory to you?” 

^^Oh, I fear not.” She shook her head dubiously, 
have lost confidence in the illusive prospects of 
a brighter future. There is none for me.” 

She glanced at Lilian, who was gazing at her 
with tears in her pensive eyes. What did that 
mean? Sympathy? After many long, weary, 
friendless years ? Those tears were the first 
tokens of sympathy she had seen in many years. 
She longed to clasp the child to her heart. 

^^Miss Homean, I think a short rest would re- 
vive me very^ much. I am unfit to be at all enter- 
taining. If you will show me the place I will go 
there and rest a short while. If Cain should re- 
turn while I am asleep, please call me. He may 
return shortly and he may stay away for weeks 
yet. He is so strange.” 

After Mamie had conducted the woman to the 
bed-chamber, she returned to Lilian and whis- 
pered : — 

^^What shall we do ? It is that horrible ruffian !” 

^^We shall wait awhile.” 

^‘Yery well.” 

“But how strange !” 


162 


CAIN. 


CHAPTER XIIL 

Many days passed by without bringing back the 
wandering Cain. Mrs. Harwell expected him to 
return every hour, yet she did not seem to be 
distressed about his prolonged absence. Mamie 
observed her composed attitude and wondered 
why she could rest so calmly, knowing that some- 
thing was keeping him way. She wanted to ask 
why he stayed away from her so long without 
writing, but that repelling hauteur always awed 
her. 

As the time passed away, the governess became 
an intimate friend of the mistress of the man- 
sion. 

One evening Mamie was standing in the shadow 
of a verbena vine reading a newspaper sheet. It 
was one of those beautiful evenings which an 
autumn afternoon had blessed with the tranquillity 
of a holy calm, in which all nature had drowsily 
subsided, and into which the sweet summer had 
poured all her beautiful productions to retreat it- 
self to a more congenial climate. The sun had 
moved around in its course till now it shot its 
long-reaching sunbeams up the narrow valley at 
sunset. Shadows of approaching night were en- 
veloping the lesser hills and drawing their black 


CAIN. 


153 


curtains over the deep valleys. But the tall moun- 
tain east of the house looked as if it were lifting 
its lofty summit high into the golden realms of a 
golden universe, which seemed to transfigure it 
before the less superior peaks. A beautiful trans- 
parent sea of sunlight settled over it. One might 
think that its beauty outrivaled the scene wherein 
Jason, through the assistance of the celebrated 
sorceress. Media, secured the Golden Fleece. 

Mamie glanced up from her reading to gaze at 
the glory that crowned the grand old mountain. 
A single lonely sunbeam lingered on the hill-side, 
and Mamie thought, from the symbol it sug- 
gested, that hopes vanish, like fading sunbeams, 
though some, like that lingering sunbeam, linger 
on the bleak, barren side of life, to sustain the 
weary one. She felt that it was wrong to think 
of the past, but how could she divert her thoughts 
when they crowded upon her? She felt that a 
change, either for good or for bad, was approach- 
ing — a change that would require one final, desper- 
ate effort, then her destiny would be sealed. 

She remained where she was standing until the 
calm, seductive twilight began to shed its hazy, 
crepusular light round about her. She sighed 
deeply, and, as the incoming breezes swept past 
her, she caught the sound of approaching foot- 
steps. She looked around, and saw a form ad- 
vancing slowly toward the housoi. Suddenly it 
vanished. She waited and listened, but she could 
hear nothing but the deep, hungry roar of the 
falls. 

As she started to the house she glanced at the 
paper,- and stopped suddenly. She gazed fixedly 


154 


CAIN. 


at the news-sheet. A wild, hopeless gleam of de- 
spair shone in her eyes, and her features grew cold 
and livid. She looked about her and a deep groan 
escaped her parched lips. Again she looked at the 
paper and read : — 

THE GAMBLER’S FATE. 

Washington, Sept. 5, 18 — . — (Special.) — Last 
night, while indulging in his wicked excesses with 
his nocturnal fellow-revelers, Leland Burnett was 
shot down at the pool-table and met his death. 
He was trying to escape with the money he had 
lost. 

The paper fluttered from her hands, and she 
threw up her hands and groaned pitifully. 

^^My God! My God! Have mercy ” 

She fell insensible on the ground. She was 
found and carried into the corridor, where Lilian 
managed to revive her with applications of ice 
water. After she had quaffed a glass of wine she 
was helped to her room, and she soon fell asleep. 

But that night she awoke with the pain of a 
broken heart. She was to blame for Leland’s 
waywardness. For hours she wept and prayed, 
and wept again. At the dead hour of midnight 
she fancied she heard the soft tread of some one 
in the rotunda moving about over the carpeted 
floor. She could hear no voice, and after a mo- 
ment the room was silent. 

She murmured with a strange pathos in her 
voice : — 

shall never see Leland again. Beyond the 
silent tomb his doom is ‘fixed’ ! He goes down, 
down, — ah me ! — and shall I go to heaven ?” 


CAIN. 


155 


She fell asleep under the influence of the sooth- 
ing breezes that came in whispering lullabies 
through the window she had purposely left open. 

On the following morning, Mamie was well 
enough to make her visit to ^‘Lonely Vicinity 

When she arrived at Mrs. Harum’s the little 
granddaughter met her at the gate. 

^^0 Miss Homean, you can’t imagine how glad 
I am to see you ! You have been needed so bad 
ever since you w^ent away. Grandmother has been 
sick, and she has been crying and saying she 
wished you would come and comfort her. Oh, she 
is so lonely. I have been praying for her the best 
I know how, and that is all I can do.” 

^^God bless you, child; that is the best thing 
you could have done. It is said that faith can re- 
move mountains, and if you prayed with great 
faith who can deny that your prayer will be an- 
swered ?” 

The child took Mamie by the hand, and led her 
into the room where Mrs. Harum lay sick of a 
fever. The sick woman’s face seemed to shine 
with sudden joy when she saw the governess. 

“God bless you !” she said, as she held out her 
feeble hand for Mamie’s grasp. “Oh, you are 
such a good friend. Have a seat. I am so glad 
you have come.” 

“Mrs. Harum, I am very sorry to And you sick. 
However, I have brought you some nice fruit that 
you can enjoy eating, if your physical condition 
will admit of your eating them.” 

She place a small basket of peaches, grapes and 
pears upon the table, and took from the basket a 
small bouquet of flowers fresh from the dewy 


156 


CAIN. 


flower-garden of Gethsemane, and handed them 
to the sick woman as a token of their tenderest 
affections and friendship. The woman took them 
with an expression of delight on her pale face and 
inhaled their fagrance. 

^‘^The good Lord only knows how thankful I am 
for these tokens.” 

After resting awhile, Mamie opened her Bible 
and began to read to the lonely woman and her lit- 
tle orphan. She began by reading, “Fret not thy- 
self because of evil doers.” She read on through 
that sacred passage, and its inspiration came from 
her clear voice in rich strains of melody and of 
spirituality. She read passage after passage to 
them, and the orphan listened attentively to the 
beautiful clear accents and perfect articulation. 
Tears gathered in the child’s eyes as the in- 
structor read on and finally her attentiveness 
linked her soul into the endless chain of love and 
spirituality that issued from every word of the 
inspired words that she read. When Mamie 
ceased reading the little child looked up at her 
and smiled. 

“I can read the precious Book day after day, 
but. Oh ! you read it so sweetly ! It touches my 
very soul, and — I feel so happy. Now let’s pray 
for grandmother, pray for ourselves, pray for 
everybody.” 

Then they all bowed in the kneeling attitude of 
devotion, (and from Mamie’s pathetic voice as- 
cended an earnest prayer to God. When they arose 
the little girl began to sing that sweet hymn, “I 
know that Jesus loves me, and that’s enough for 
me.” Her sweet voice rang like silver chimes, and 


CAIN. 


157 


as the song continued her face grew brighter, till 
at last she seized Mamie’s hand as though in a 
state of spiritual ecstasy. Then she ran to her 
grandmother, and, throwing her arms about her 
neck, she exclaimed joyfully : — 

^^Oh ! Grandmother ! Your little Ella will be 
good now. God for Christ’s sake has pardoned 
my sins and has blessed my soul. Miss Homean, 
you may be proud that you have been instru- 
mental in bringing one soul to Christ. Oh, how 
happy I am !” 

It was indeed a happy occasion. Mrs. Harum 
rejoiced that such a tide of religion had flowed 
through her home, gathering her precious grand- 
daughter in its immaculate stream. Soon after- 
ward she was baptized into the church. 

After a pleasant visit to other people of ‘^Lonely 
Vicinity” Mamie started home, feeling that God 
had crowned her efforts with wonderful success. 
What a great opportunity for Christian and phil- 
anthropic work? Mamie was sorry for the poor 
people and rejoiced that she could lend them a 
helping hand. 

Ah, what a boon it is to a sorrow-stricken soul 
to help others! How true it is that the heart- 
broken one finds the greatest consolation in the 
hardest work and in making others happy. 

On her way she wept for the poor, ruined soul 
of Leland. Ah, how bitter was her life after all. 
She was almost tempted to believe that God was 
cruel to her. 

When she returned to ‘^Gethesmane” there was 
a great change about the place, which puzzled her. 
The doors and windows were all closed. A large. 


158 


CAIN. 


angry dog was chained to a post in the yard. What 
did all this mean? 

She opened the gate quietly, and walked in and 
up to the granite steps. She heard the excited 
clatter of voices within. She stopped to listen, 
but just then the dog gave a fierce howl, and in- 
stantly the voices hushed. But quickly the solu- 
tion came to her. The master of the house had 
come home and was evidently abusing his aunt 
about something. And the dog’s being tied to the 
stake confirmed her conjecture ; for this must sure- 
ly be his dog. No considerate gentleman would 
bring such a dangerous canine into another’s yard. 

She stepped up under the marble archway and 
turned the knob. The door opened quietly, and 
she passed in. Passing the parlor door she saw 
Mrs. Harwell, who was standing by the high- 
fiuted column, talking in undertones to her 
nephew, who was standing by the black marble 
table. His head was inclined, and his hat was 
drawn down over his eyes. His hand fingered and 
played through his soft, silky, black beard. Mamie 
shuddered as she paused and looked at his swarthy 
features and dejected attitude. She never forgot 
the gloominess he personified. Mrs. Harwell put 
her hand upon his arm, and said pleadingly: — 

^^0 Cain, won’t you heed me? You know that 
I am right. And Shakespeare said, ‘Thrice is he 
armed that hath his quarrel just.’ ” 

Mamie heard these words, and saw his cold, 
stern, scowling face as he turned his petulant head 
toward his aunt, but she saw and heard no more. 
She passed on to her room and sat down to think. 
The day had been a happy one; she had been in- 


CAIN. 


159 


strumental in bringing one sonl to Christ. But 
the bright day had been soon darkened by a cloud. 
She had returned with bright anticipations, but 
the presence of the cruel master blurred the 
brightness. 

A feeling of apprehension and dread seized her 
as she thought of having to meet a man who de- 
tested the very existence of her sex. She went to 
her room, arrayed herself in a beautiful evening 
costume, and waited for the supper call. 

She did not have long to wait till the bell rang 
for supper. Endeavoring to possess herself with 
fortitude she arose and entered the dining-room, 
bowed to Mrs. Harwell, who immediately turned 
to her nephew. 

^^Miss Homean, allow me to present Mr. Cain.” 

He was admiring himself before a large mir- 
ror, and at the mention of the girl’s name he 
turned his flashing eyes upon her. 

^^Good evening, Mr. Cain.” 

‘'Good evening, stranger.” 

“Stranger, indeed !” corrected Mrs. Harwell 
roughly. “Cain, you are extremely rude.” 

“Well, my most potent kinswoman, I think you 
might have spared yourself the task of introducing 
her. Introduce her to me ! As if I could not 
familiarize myself into an intimacy with her if I 
so desired.” 

His tone was full of derision ; his eyes flashed 
contempt; his gestures were haughty. 

“Cain, you may occupy the position at the head 
of the table to-night, and if you ‘so desire,’ as you 
are pleased to term it, you may occupy that posi- 
tion henceforth.” 


CAIN. 


160 

‘T. suppose I must be subject to the powers 
that be/^ he said sneeringly. “When did you take 
upon yourself the honor of ^Grave Oracle of 
“Gethsemane’’ ^ ?” 

“Be seated at the table, Cain.” 

“I think you had better place your pure and 
undefiled self at the head of the table, as I do not 
want to inflict myself with that tri-daily rehearsal 
of that little, inspired epigram you call ^returning 
thanks !’ You know the one occupying that place 
is required by orthodox discipline to recite it.” 

“I think, Cain, we can manage to dispose of 
this evening repast. We can do so without further 
discussion, I think.” 

“Just as you desire, my dear aunt.” 

They seated themselves at the table and ate in 
silence. Mamie’s sense of dignity had been 
wounded by his rudeness and she dared not look 
into his criticising eyes, which, she was certain, 
were fixed upon her every movement. When they 
had finished Mr. Cain leaned back. He chuckled 
as if to himself, and muttered a wild, strange for- 
eign phrase, and began toying with the silver 
spoon in his plate. 

“I suppose I will have to rest contented tonight. 
I can’t go out and enjoy the revelries of a banquet 
as I have been accustomed to do. I think I shall 
call Paix immediately to the rotunda, where we 
can have a few dashes at dice or play billiards.” 

“Paix! Whom do you call Paix?” inquired 
Mrs. Harwell. 

“Why, he is a little Frenchman whom I met in 
Paris. You know some Frenchmen like adven- 
ture. So I told him of my romantic hermitage 


CAIN. 


161 


here, and the beauties of its scenery, and he ex- 
pressed his desire to accompany me. I brought 
him along with me. I suppose he is in the draw- 
ing-room now, or on his way from the village. 
Oh, he is a commendable Frenchman. You need 
not be vexed at my bringing him here.” 

He rose from the table, and, taking a cheroot 
from his vest pocket, he lit it and passed on into 
the drawing-room without further explanation to 
the bewildered ladies. 

“It is a peculiar whim of his,” said Mrs. Har- 
well thoughtfully, as she adjusted a broken spray 
in the bouquet on the table. “Cain is generally 
different. He has no friends, so he thinks, whom 
he can trust. He accepts no friendship, and 
grants none; and I say it is a departure from his 
regular habits to indulge the friendship of any one 
— even this foreigner.” 

“Perhaps,” said the governess, “it will soften 
his heart to have the sympathies of another friend 
continually touching his few sympathies.” 

“God grant that such a providential occurrence 
may bring to pass such a change in his wicked 
heart.” 

They rose from the table and went into the 
drawing-room, where they entertained themselves 
with an interesting game of whist. They could 
hear the explosions of laughter and the foreign- 
phrased exclamations from the gamesters in the 
rotunda. Lilian absented herself from the draw- 
ing-room and stole her way to the dark shadows 
of the narrow passage, where she could see through 
the partly open door of the rotunda the hilarious 
revelers. The little girl turned away from the 


i^2 CAIN. 

sickening scene with a feeling of mingled pity 
and disgust. 

The ladies soon retired, but the revelry con- 
tinued till the late hour of midnight, when the 
revelers ceased and staggered off to bed. At last 
all was silent, and only the extreme stillness 
seemed to awaken a disturbance of its own silence. 

Time passed on without the happening of ex- 
traordinary or unusual occurrences. The cold 
days began to draw nearer and nearer, enveloping 
the mountains and valleys in the dreary, chilling 
mists and fogs of wintry gloominess. Day after 
day the dull routine of life went on. Mamie oc- 
casionally met the master of ^^Gethsemane,’’ per- 
haps on the veranda or in the narrow passage on 
his way to his magnificent rotunda. He only 
slightly bowed to her as he passed, but always his 
keen, piercing eyes cast their strange, magnetic 
power upon her at every glance of their mystic 
brilliancy. She noticed that he was not altogether 
indifferent toward her. 

One cold, clear morning, they were partaking of 
a delicious, steaming breakfast. Mr. Cain had 
taken a draught of delicious wine, when he sud- 
denly broke the silence by a cynical laugh, and 
spoke to Paix, but kept his eyes firmly fixed upon 
the governess, who sat opposite him. Thus he 
spoke : — 

^Taix, I was reading an account of the death 
of my old friend, Leland Burnett, the other day. 
Doubtless he has already greeted the sainted 
Abraham and Isaac and Jacob and the immaculate 
Christ and so forth, — ^he was shot down in a gam- 
bling hell, you know?’’ 


CAIN. 163 

"Yes, I read it,’’ and the Frenchman laughed 
cunningly. 

Mamie’s face grew pale, and she tried not to 
look at Mr. Cain, but in vain. Her eyes met his, 
smiling derisively. But as he saw the tears in her 
eyes, something strangely tender dispelled his 
scornful visage, and she beheld in his handsome 
face and strangely brilliant eyes a look of tender- 
ness, which, strange to say, looked restless and 
pleading. A peculiar feeling stirred in her heart, 
and she blushed and quickly looked down. 

Cain and Paix and Mrs. Harwell talked on, but 
Mamie was silent. She dared not look at him 
again, but kept her eyes fixed on the china and 
on the little bouquet by her plate. What was it 
that pleadingly appealed to her from his passion- 
ate eyes? Something lurked there that she had 
never seen before. She fancied the answer, and it 
caused her to smile, but something caused her to 
shake her head. Then the smile vanished and left 
her face pale as marble. 

When they all arose from the table Mamie went 
to the library and tried to concentrate her con- 
fused mind on the perusal of an ancient narrative. 
In vain she tried to read understandingly, but all 
the interesting pages seemed to turn to tables of 
stone on which might as well have appeared the 
inscriptions of an unknown language of an ex- 
tinct and forgotten race. 

At last she dropped the book in her lap, and 
gave herself up entirely to a dream of love, — love 
for whom? 


164 


CAIN. 


CHAPTER XIV. 

At last she sighed deeply and rising from her 
chair she started from the room, when she no- 
ticed a small copy in beautiful red binding lying 
upon the table. She looked at it and found it to 
be a treatise on the unpardonable sin. Like all 
other lovers of literature she looked to see who 
the author was. But to her disappointment she 
saw only a blurred spot where the name had been 
blotted out. 

After the day was passed she went to the library 
to see and read this little book. It required only 
the reading of the first few pages to catch her in- 
terest in the logical arrangement and eloquent 
language. Its thoughts led far back into the dim 
and faded annals of the Quaternary age — the age 
of man, — and an impressive construction of the 
theme rendered it a convincing proof and argu- 
ment ! The author dealt with facts from a his- 
torical standpoint as well as from a logical view 
of the question. ‘‘^The Origin of Man” filled the 
first few pages of the book, then a gradual devel- 
opment from instinct into reason and natural in- 
tuition concluded these pages devoted to the first 
topic. Then came a series of interrogations con- 
cerning the mysterious existence of man. ^The 


CAIN. 


165 


Word was God” was a quotation from the Bible, 
and the comment upon it was as follows : — 

“It is strange how the annals of the Bible have 
been preserved; but like many other pieces of 
ancient literature it has been handed down to 
every succeeding generation, not through that 
mysterious, mythical power of divine providence, 
as a greater portion of the world is wont to be- 
lieve, but by a natural course of events. Of course 
it is useless to explain why this ancient relic of 
literature, called the Bible, is not inspired, for it 
is reasonable to suppose that any rational mind 
knows that it is not. For even the Bible is clothed 
in a garb of fiction, assuming characters from the 
very beginning ; such as ^God,’ Adam,’ and ^Eve,’ 
and ‘The Devil’; and even the serpent coils itself 
around the scene or crawls through the thicket of 
romance; and Eve’s seed bruises its head; all this 
confirms the belief that it was a fictitious composi- 
tion. It is remarkable that in the Icelandic Bible 
this little story is told of the origin of man : — 

(Icelandic Dialect) “ ‘Og Gud saged, ver vilium 
gera Mannenn epter mind og liking vorre. Og 
Gud skapade hann hann, og han skapade thaw 
parlman og kvimu,’ which means, ‘And God said. 
Let us make man in our own image and like- 
ness, and God shaped man after his own image, 
after God’s image shaped he them, and he shaped 
them male and female.’ 

“Therefore, it being only an ancient work of 
fiction, it will be generally conceded that it is 
only ordinary and not inspired.” 

Then came the analysis of the erroneous idea 
of unpardonable sins, and the effort to refute such 


166 


CAIN. 


proclivities. A continuous flow of logic and elo- 
quence graced the pages, and when Mamie closed 
the little book the question rose in her mind who 
this learned author could be. It was true that all 
the statements contained therein were self-evident, 
but she did not accept, always, those facts proved 
by logic; and pushing the polluting volume aside 
and back into its place she rose, half ashamed that 
she had read such a book, and retired to rest. 

The following day was the Sabbath, and Mamie 
went to the Sunday-school that she had so suc- 
cessfully organized in the old church. There was 
a large attendance. Mr. Alfred Butterick, the 
famous missionary, lectured after the Sunday- 
school lessons were recited. 

She was in deep meditation, and as she was 
driving down a little rock hill, on her homeward 
way, Mr. Cain stepped out from a ledge of rocks 
into the road by the buggy and, bowing stiffly, 
he asked permission to ride home with her, as it 
was some distance to ^^Gethsemane.” Of course it 
was useless to ^'contrary him,^^ for it would kindle 
his deep hatred more hotly against her. Therefore 
she gave him a seat by her in the buggy. But she 
felt as though she were indulging in an experiment 
that might be better left undone. To be so closely 
associated with such a vile man made her shudder, 
even at the thought of it. And it was strange that 
he would ask to ride with a member of the sex he 
despised. She conjectured that he had a motive 
for such action. They were silent for some time, 
when Mr. Cain began the conversation : — 

‘^Miss Homean, may I ask where you have been 
going every Sabbath since I have been here?” 


CAIN. 


167 


His tone was imperative, and as Mamie looked 
at him she observed that his face was cold, rigid, 
desolate, even savage; and a peculiar flame of 
passion gleamed in his wonderful eyes. Half 
frightened by his manner she answered con- 
fusedly : 

“Why, I — I — have meant to ” 

“You have meant to deceive me 

“No, sir, Mr. Cain, I have not ! But I shall not 
tell you of my affairs. I have been engaged in a 
good work, and I think it is improper for you to 
question my integrity in such a rude manner.” 

“Good work, indeed! I guess you have been 
feeding a bunch of wild swine somewhere on this 
mountain, have you not?” 

“No, sir, I have not been engaged in such a 
lowly task.” 

“Well, where do you go?” 

“Mr. Cain, I think you had better spare your- 
self the unnecessary boisterousness you are under- 
going, and save your lungs for railing on your 
high-spirited steed; for you may distinctly under- 
stand that I do not purpose to argue with you.” 

“Ah, Miss Homean, you are of the impression 
that I am ignorant of your clandestine proceed- 
ings. What? And you may be surprised that 
such knowledge has so mysteriously come to me. 
And your impetuous, trick-working mind may 
conjecture that I have a secret communication 
with these rocks which to you and all others are 
dumb, and that they have betrayed you to me. No 
matter. I have learned the secret of your Sab- 
bath escapades. Doubtless you are endeavoring to 
found a damnable organization called a Church. 


168 


CAIN. 


Remember the place of your worship is on my 
premises, and that henceforth I forbid you the 
further propagation of such an organization. Re- 
member what I have said 

He looked resolved and malicious as he turned 
his restless eyes upon her. 

^^Mr. Cain, I do not think it will necessitate a 
charging of my memory with that statement. We 
shall move to a more peaceable place. But I fail 
to see that 3"Our objection is at all founded.” 

They were silent for several moments. The 
awful, wicked manner and expression of Cain 
made Mamie shudder, and a tremor fluttered to 
her lips. Her hand moved to her heart as if a 
pain were there. 

^^No doubt. Miss Homean, 3'ou have sized me 
up as a most daring enemy of your eminent Lord 
— a branded member of that lawless band that 
invades all Christendom and bound for the upper- 
most seat in Hades.” 

“Oh, no ! Mr. Cain, I had not looked at it in 
such a deplorable way. I hope there is a better 
future for you.” 

“Well, my most charitable friend, since 3mu 
hope so liberally, would you be so kind as to donate 
to my knowledge-gathering, insatiable treasure- 
mind the extent of your hopes? Ho 3^ou believe I 
am destined to that better future?” 

She saw his smile of mockery, but answered 
calmly : — 

“Mr. Cain, this is a delicate question, and it is 
wicked to tamper with it in such a way. I prefer 
to change to a pleasanter topic.” 

“Perhaps it would be advisable to stop with this 


CAIN. 169 

one, as we are about home, and about to stop here 
at this gate.” 

Amos, the servant, took the horse and buggy in 
charge, and Mamie and the ^^Oracle of ‘Geth- 
semane’ ” walked to the house. Mr. Cain opened 
the Habakkuk gate ; and, after they had passed in, 
he paused and looked at the artistically crowned 
and polished knobs on the gate-posts. On their 
polished spherical exteriors rested, securely fas- 
tened, a rectangular prism of zurlite. 

^‘^These strange specimens of minerals are sig- 
nals of existing evil spirits, symbolical of the fic- 
titious prevailing idea, at least. But, according 
to my notion, they derive their significance from 
the fiery regions from which they were ejected. 
Being newly-discovered minerals from Vesuvius, 
they signify the burning regions from which the 
devil sends evil spirits to tempt humanity !” 

He threw his head back and laughed scorn- 
fully. He said in conclusion : 

‘‘Such folly ! All is a vast infinite sea of 
dreams ! Nothing is everything, and everything 
is nothing!” 

With a low, mirthless laugh, he turned abruptly 
on his heel, stroking his soft, silky beard with his 
slender white fingers. The bitter mockery of his 
words made Mamie shudder, but she listened to 
him in contemptuous, yet pitying silence. When 
he joined her on the way to the house she saw a 
hopeless, savage gleam flashing in his eyes. In- 
deed, he was supremely intelligent, but how horri- 
bly wicked. 

When they had entered the house Lilian joined 
her governess in the library, where she recited a 


170 


CAIN. 


Scripture lesson. When this was done she handed 
Mamie a beautiful book of Bible stories and asked 
her in that tender, pleading tone : — 

‘^Won’t you read to me from that book? Your 
voice is so gentle and sweet — won’t you?” 

^^Yes, darling, I like to please you,” and she 
kissed her pupil. 

She opened the book and read the story of 
Samuel, the story of Joseph’s sad boyhood and 
happy old age, and the beautiful story of Jesus. 
When she closed the book she saw Lilian gazing 
at her with tears in her eyes. 

“It makes me think of ^Ir. Leland Burnett when 
I hear you read, ^lamie. He used to read those 
stories to me so often. You read just like he did 
— as if your very soul were filled with God’s love.” 

Mamie inclined her head to meet the upturned 
face of her pupil, and kissed it. A strange, 
pensive, shadow^y smile settled on her beautiful 
but sad face. She did not speak. 

The evening was beautiful, lovely; the balm of 
a bright day was in the atmosphere, and the smile 
of God rested upon the landscape. But this was 
only one day beautiful amid weeks of winter 
gloominess. The long, dreary cold winter lingered 
over the great mountains and valleys like a grim 
spectre of desolation. 

Lilian sat by the fire in the library one cold day, 
watching the snowfiakes falling thick and fast 
over the craggy bluffs and frowning rocks, the bar- 
ren trees, the hillsides and the valleys. She was 
thinking of her mother in the far East. She was 
wondering if that mother ever thought of her lit- 
tle daughter back at the old home they once loved 


C A I K . 


171 


so well. A painful sigh escaped her lips. She 
was still alone in this library, and the monotonous 
popping and crackling of the fire, together with 
the incessant ticking of the clock on the mantel 
made her loneliness more lonely. Outside not a 
breeze disturbed the soft downpour of the snow as 
it fell velvet-sandled over the barren land. 

She heard the footsteps of some one descending 
the spiral staircase in the adjoining room in the 
adjoining rotunda, and before she was even aware 
of any one’s presence two cold but soft white 
hands were clasped to her cheeks and a voice in a 
tender tone spoke: — 

‘‘Guess who it is?” 

“Well, I guess it is Mr. Cain,” she said glee- 
fully. 

Cain removed his hands and took a seat oppo- 
site her. 

“Lilian, why have you preferred studying alone 
to-day? I have looked everywhere for you, but 
never thought of finding you here.” 

“Why, Mr. Cain, you know once in a while we 
all want to be alone because we are unfit to be 
entertaining. I was thinking of mother and won- 
dering if she still loves me?” 

A pallor swept from tempt to forehead across 
his brow, and a cold smile parted his lips. 

“No doubt, then, I am intruding.” 

“No ! no ! Mr. Cain, you are welcome. Perhaps 
it will tend to divert my thoughts to those less 
sad.” 

“Would you like to see your mother?” 

“Very much.” 


172 CAIN. 

He looked tenderly at the beautiful girl for a 
moment. 

‘‘1 understand your mother is not living?” said 
Lilian at length. Mr. Cain again smiled. 

“No, my mother is living still ; but she thinks I 
am dead.” 

“Poor woman!” said Lilian, tenderly, ‘diow 
happy she would be if you would go to her and tell 
her, ‘Mamma, here is your lost boy.’ Why don’t 
you make her happy that way?” 

Mr. Cain shook his head in silence. The ten- 
der expression died away in his eyes, and the sav- 
age gleam flashed back a thousand flery demons. 
Lilian’s eyes fell under the keen flash of his merci- 
less eyes. 

“Lilian,” he began after a moment’s silence, 
“I came here to reveal a profound secret to you. 
Follow me, and I shall take you into that silent, 
mysterious chamber which, no doubt, has excited 
your curiosity.” 

Lilian hesitated a moment, but remembering the 
obstinacy and sensitiveness of his cynical nature 
she dared not resist. She rose and timidly fol- 
lowed him. But he was mistaken, she did not 
even know of any mysterious chamber. And she 
was curious to know just what he could have 
meant. 

He led the wondering girl through the doorway 
into the rotunda across the floor, and paused to 
listen. All was silent. He took a small key from 
his pocket and put it into the door lock. Then, 
turning to Lilian, he said: — 

“Will you promise that you will never tell what 
you are about to see and hear?” 


CAIN. 173 

Lilian drew back from him in amazement and 
with fear. 

‘^0, Mr. Cain, I do not want to go in there! 
Please do not take me into that place ! I am 
afraid, and besides, I do not want to be burdened 
with the secret.’’ 

^‘Do not be frightened, my little bird.” 

Cain’s strong arm held her tightly while he 
looked full into her eyes. 

‘^Do you promise?” 

“I promise,” she said, whereupon the little lock 
clicked and a beautiful door swung noiselessly back 
on its hinges. Once in he shut the door and locked 
it. Lilian, seeing the folly of further resistance, 
became perfectly obedient. 

Then, like the shadows of intruding ghosts, 
they slowly and silently Walked down a narrow ave- 
nue, whose snow-white polished marble walls were 
draped with purple, red and white silk hangings. 
Thick carpet on the narrow paved floor rendered 
their footsteps noiseless as their slippered feet sank 
into its pliable texture. Lilian’s heart beat wildly. 
At the termination of the narrow passage they 
came to a heavy iron door. Mr. Cain stopped to 
listen again ; then removing the heavy cross-bar he 
opened the door. This admitted to view a spacious 
room, all elaborately furnished, into which they 
descended by a long flight of stairs. Its single 
row of columns stood unfluted, unadorned but 
magniflcent, white, polished and large through the 
center of the room. Between them were suspended 
thin granite slabs on which were the gilded words, 
'^Life or Death !” Mr. Cain looked up at these 
solemn declarations and a death-like pallor crept 


174 


CAIN. 


across his face; his teeth became set and his fin- 
gers clinched as if some half-hidden conscience 
had awakened in his soul, goading him to frenzy. 
But his strong nature surged furiously from that 
sea of conscious agony, and soon he was himself 
again. Lilian could have screamed with fear, but 
she dared not disturb the silence which seemed to 
be under his magnetic power. 

At the further extremity hung rich cream-col- 
ored satin curtains stretching across some recess 
as if it were shrouding some captured mythologi- 
cal deity’s dungeon. They walked noiselessly 
across to the place, and again parted the thick 
folds of the curtains and stepped into the cham- 
ber. 

On a small couch a man was reclining, evidently 
asleep. His features were pale, his form slender, 
and from the line he marked on his couch one 
would think him about six feet tall. Cain put his 
hand out to wake the man, and Lilian shuddered 
and clung to him. Cain touched the man gently, 
but spoke in a low, gruff tone : 

‘Arise ! Mine ancient enemy of the soul !” 

The man bounded up like a suddenly awakened 
somnambulist from a dreaming escapade. 

“Hades, — and devils! Skeptics, all mingled in 
one mixture of heavenly deities — er — a — why 
— why — Cain ! Why, I hardly expected you at this 
hour !” 

He turned his closed fists back and forth in his 
sleepy eyes with an energetic reviving intent. 

“Mr. Mathes, I have come to introduce to you 
a pretty little girl, an inmate of my home. This 
is Mr. Mathes, Miss Dillion.” 


CAIN 


175 


They bowed stififly. 

^^Now, Mr. Mathes, I demand of you a promise 
that you will never tell that you have met this 
girl/' 

“I promise,” was the petulant, weary answer. 

“I have brought this child in here for the sole 
reason of making her acquainted with its 
solemnity. According -to -the tradition -ortho- 
doxy of her ancestry she is wont to cling to their 
faith and doctrine.” 

Mr. Mathes bowed gravely in endorsement of 
Mr. Cain’s sarcasm. Mr. Cain laughed wickedly 
at the cowering man. 

believe,” said Mr. Cain, derisively, ^That if I 
were to tell you that the sun had ceased to emit 
its natural spectrum of light and that its efful- 
gence was only an incomplete spectrum of blue 
and green, you would believe me. Nevertheless, we 
have called to see you, and the moment of parting 
is at hand. We must take your silence for gsanted 
that it is a token of yours, ‘Depart, I know ye not ?’ 
Well, au revoirT 

They returned to the rotunda. 

“Now,” said Mr. Cain, “I will give you a short 
history of this gentleman. He was once regarded 
as a strong and influential advocate of infidelity 
and many other skeptical doctrines. By fraudu- 
lent proceedings he managed to secure seven mil- 
lion dollars to which I was legal heir. He perpe- 
trated this theft by plausibly and satisfactorily 
establishing himself in my place. He suddenly 
disappeared after he had gotten my legacy. I 
chanced to overhear his conversation one night 
while he was plotting with his fellow-villains to 


176 


CAIN. 


make a certain robbery of a bank. In that com 
versation I learned that I was the legal heir to the 
seven million dollars and that through his skilful 
scheming he had managed to secure it. I heard 
him say that he had saved every dollar of it and 
carried it with him everywhere he went in the 
form of national currency. He chuckled heartily 
over his success and boasted how long it had been 
since he had done the work, and how he did it, and 
his fellow-thieves laughed and joked. After they 
had dispersed, I followed my enemy to a conveni- 
ent place, then I stepped up before him, threw my 
revolver in his face and demanded the seven mil- 
lion dollars and his surrender. He cowardly 
granted both. I captured him in the city of Rome, 
placed him in a private prison there and left him 
there and came to America with my aunt, found 
this place and located here. I went back to the 
ancient yet ever new Orient. When I got tired of 
wandering I went back to Rome, got my prisoner 
and came back here and placed him within the 
confines of that mysterious chamber one night 
when the valley of ^Gethsemane’ was sunk in the 
depths of dream’s deepest stillness. And may the 
punishment of imprisonment be meted out to him 
till he is fully repentant.” 

^‘0, Mr. Cain, how awfully wicked he was, and 
how cruel you have been ! It would have been so 
noble in you to have forgiven him after you had 
gotten your money.” 

For the first time the girl defied his stony gaze. 

^^]Porgive! Indeed !” he muttered. ‘W"hy could 
not the high priest’s servant have been forgiven by 
St. Peter before the impulsive disciple smote his 


CAIN. 


177 


«ar off ? Ah, Forgive ! — it isn’t Iiuman to forgive. 
‘Forgive’ is an obsolete word in the modren vo- 
cabulary and should be transferred to the Lexicon 
of Obselescents.” 

Lilian made no answer, but treated his sarcasm 
with her effective silence. 

“Now, Lilian, you have promised to keep this 
secret. But I didn’t trust you; I only meant 
to 

“You meant to try me!” she said petulantly, 
rising to her feet with an indignant air. “It is 
dishonorable in the extreme for any gentleman to 
trifle with a little girl’s curiosity for the sole pur- 
pose of gratifying his own selfish desire to justly 
distrust and detest the gentler sex. But to in- 
validate your argument that the term forgiveness 
is obsolete, I rise from my little throne of feminine 
felicity and superiority and look down upon you 
and most earnestly and sincerely forgive you the 
insult. Good day.” 

“I am grieved at the necessity of detaining you 
a moment. Now I ask no display of your fem- 
inine deception. Forgive! As if such could ex- 
ist in the hearts of depraved human beings. But I 
trust that this interview will not relinquish our 
friendship?” He smiled. Lilian looked at his 
radiant face, and suddenly a thrilling sensation 
caused her to recognize a pleasant magnetic per- 
sonality in him. His eyes bespoke something of 
tenderness and through them a hungry soul looked 
despairingly and pleadingly at her. Her eyes fell, 
and her face flushed. 

“Mr. Cain, we remain friends, but I do trust 
that we will have no more such painful inter- 
views. I must go.” 


178 


CAIN. 


CHAPTER XV. 

Lilian entertained suspicious ideas concerning 
the presence of the wiry litttle Frenchman in the 
home. She did not know how to decipher the 
expressions in his sparkling eyes ; and the cautious, 
restrained tone of his voice sometimes almost be- 
trayed him. 

Paix, as he was called, was short, slight and 
wiry, by no means ungraceful figure. He had the 
highest type of Parisian manners, and one lis- 
tened studiously but attentively to his purely 
French phrases. He was full of restless move- 
ment — a natural pantomimist in gesture. A brief 
autobiography told that he was the spoiled son of 
an eminent and rich French banker, and such 
being his unfortunate allotment he was left desti- 
tute of employment, to drink of every cup of en- 
joyment, which he did without regarding the 
future. 

But the child was perplexed about his presence 
there. Mr. Cain had always despised all mani- 
festations of friendship, and had come to this 
secluded place to evade all possible contact with 
‘fiiypocritical friends/^ but he seemed strangely 
partial toward his friend Paix. 

Paix was exceedingly kind to Mrs. Harwell. He 


CAIN. 


179 


proffered his services to her in many ways — even 
condescending to sway his shapely form under the 
swing of a wood-ax, chopping wood for her fire- 
place. 

One cold evening, the household had gathered 
around the festal board. Mr. Cain seemed silent 
and troubled; a perpetual frown was on his brow, 
and his eyes rarely wandered from his plate. When 
he had finished his meal he pushed back his plate 
with a sneer, and ventured to speak : — 

‘‘I see they have debarred a recently-elected 
Senator from Utah from entering upon his official 
duties because he is labeled with the accursed title 
of a Mormon, — as if his religious proclivities ren- 
dered him any the less qualified to enter the gal- 
lery of the Senate and take his oath. It is all 
bosh — this thing, Christianity — there is no unity 
in the organization. Each denomination is striv- 
ing like athletic contestants to suppress the others. 
I am exceedingly amused at the tit-for-tat games 
these religious sects play upon the vast arena of 
religious speculations.” 

“I hope, Mr. Cain,” said the governess in an 
offended manner, “that your amusement will not 
be so excessive as to injure your vital powers. Be 
careful; you might overtax your vitality by such 
tremendous amusement — that coveted sensation 
which affords that pleasurable occupation of the 
senses.” 

“I would permit you to share the amusement 
with me had I the least idea that you could appre- 
ciate the fun. But since you have been so charita- 
ble in your advice concerning the dangers of ex- 
cessive fun, I have the speedy opportunity to show 


180 


CAIN. 


my spirit of charity; therefore, fearing that your 
vital powers and especially your weak feminine in- 
tellect are not prepared to undergo the tortures 
of the amusements you convey, I cautiously with- 
hold the ‘'Higher Amusement/ ” 

^^Thanks for your kindness concerning the 
preservation of my health, for it is a very valuable 
property of mine. You have a wonderful knowl- 
edge of Hygiene, I must admit.” 

Cain was silent, regarding her face and words 
as if amused. At length he rose from the table, 
drew a Honolulu from his hunting-vest pocket, lit 
it, and stood for a moment gazing at the lamp- 
light, while the pale blue tendrils of smoke swept 
in fanciful curls about his nostrils. 

‘A fairy goddess from Hades,” he began, “has 
commissioned me to be about my master^s busi- 
ness. I am to set about erecting a huge temple in 
honor of Ariadne, that famous daughter of Minos, 
king of Crete, who loved Theseus, and gave him 
the clew of thread which guided him out of the 
labyrinth of Crete.” 

He laughed, and turning abruptly to the door, 
said as he went: ‘^Candida pax be with you till 
the aurora of the morn shall again dawn !” 

The twilight had gone, and the cold wind 
whistled in dreary tones about the house. There 
was no moon, not even a star to dispel the dark- 
ness outside. 

The governess had repaired to the library, and 
was reading the Bible, when Cain entered the 
room to get a book. Noticing her complete 
oblivion to all things save the perusal of the sa- 
cred pages he ventured close to her. This unusual 


CAIN. 


181 


act on his part aroused her curiosity. She looked 
up as he stood by her with his cold, glittering eyes 
fixed on her features. She dreaded his gaze, but 
her eyes met his bravely, defiantly. He stopped 
and quickly took her book from her and placing it 
under his arm he laughed, not mirthfully, but 
scornfully. 

“It is an imperative rule of mine,” he said 
haughtily, “that all such ancient blasphemy as 
this book shall be destroyed.” 

He turned to the fire, but kept his keen eyes 
fixed upon her face. 

“And I further demand a promise of you,” he 
went on, “from your pure and undefiled lips, that 
you will never bring another one of these profane 
volumes into my home.” 

He waited; she made no answer, but a flash of 
profound indignation burned in her face and 
blazed in her eyes. The silence made him furious, 
and he gave vent to his anger by cursing and 
stamping his foot, yet Mamie remained silent, in- 
dignant, defiant. 

He laid the book upon the table, and came close 
to her once more, stooping to observe her eyes 
more closely — just as he would his vicious canine 
had it wilfully disobeyed his orders. 

“You offer no flag of truce! Ah, beware the 
day when it will be too late !” 

She reached for the book, but he snatched it 
away from her, muttering an oath. 

“How dare you defy me, the master of this 
house !” he stormed out. “Be careful ; do not 
tread on graves that are liable to fall through 
with you I” 


182 


CAIN. 


long as you stay away from me, Mr. Cain, 
I shall have no cause to defy you. You should 
not coax me across graves that fall through, if you 
are so interested in my safety.’^ 

“My! My! Miss Homean, a painter desiring 
a perfect representation of anger from which to 
draw would never find a more fit specimen than 
you in your present state of rage.” 

Then he stood before the roaring fire, with the 
sacred volume in both hands raised above his 
head, while he pronounced its doom : — 

“0 ye most polluted, damnable anarchist of all 
peaceful spirits ! Thine end is come ! I hold you 
aloft and commit thee to thine everlasting doom 
— the doom of Nadab and Abihu, whom ye say 
were devoured with fire from God. Thou reignest 
no more in 'Gethsemane’ ! Ashes to ashes I com- 
mit ” 

His hands were descending with it to the fiames 
when Mamie sprang at him and snatched it away. 
She seized the book and seized and struggled with 
all her might, which was much when she was so 
angry. But he held it firm in his grasp. In her 
desperate effort he held her from him with one 
strong hand and a thousand blazes seemed to flash 
in his brilliant eyes as he gazed with astonishment 
at her. Instantly, but too late, Mamie thought of 
her neglect to reflect, and her eyes for an instant 
fell. Her face was white, and she trembled in his 
grasp. 

“Mr. Cain, you are possessed of devils — Oh, 
pardon me! — I — you are most heartless to destroy 
that most sacred book — the only book of your 
God!” 


CAIN. 


183 


Her voice fairly shook with anger. 

“Madam, you surely are possessed of devils 
yourself! you dare to interfere with 

“But, Mr. Cain, it is so sinful in you. I did 
not mean to interfere as an antagonist. I only 
hoped to rescue the book that you might have 
time to retract your sinful purpose.’’ He took the 
book in his hand and looked at her for a moment 
thoughtfully, then replaced it on the table and 
came close 1x) her again. He towered above her 
some inches, and as she stood trembling like a 
deer at bay and hiding her face in her palms, he 
tenderly but firmly held them down and looked 
into her frightened yet defiant face. He read 
there a complicated display of repugnance, defi- 
ance and detestation. He read all her aversion 
in her eyes which strove to avoid his. He smiled 
grimly, took her by the arm and replaced her in 
the large willow reclining chair. Then he took 
the holy volume from the table and restored it to 
her and slowly sauntered from the room. 

Mamie remained where he left her, and for 
hours she meditated over the strange scene in the 
library. She was baffled and confused. Just why 
this man put himself in her way, then sought to 
discourage and shame her, she knew not. 

It was the hour of midnight when the clock 
struck the time and Mamie at last aroused herself 
from the long meditative stupor. She sighed, and 
just as she was about to extinguish the light she 
heard Mr. Cain’s returning footsteps. She paused 
a moment. She brushed away the tears from her 
eyes, and knelt by her chair. Why was her peti- 
tion for that wicked Mr. Cain ? Her prayer was a’ 


184 


CAIN. 


low sweet murmur. It could scarcely be heard 
outside of the room. When she closed by saying: 
^^Lord Jesus, be merciful to me and save him !” 
and rose, she heard a groan and swift steps echo- 
ing drearily through the shadowy corridor. 

Winter began to retreat; spring began to pluck 
her glory from the sunlit skies; and a warm sun 
turned snow and ice and stillness into green mead- 
ows, sweet flowers and jubilees. 

*'8pcir]cling like a diamond 

Beams the day-star in the skies; 

Nature loosed from winter's bond. 

Smiles as one in sweet surprise; 
Hawthorns wear their wedding white. 
Pastures show their greenest guise , — 
Earth is laughing with delight." 

The Sunday-school society moved their place of 
worship to a little school-house near the stream 
that leaped down the mountain. Since Mr. Cain 
had forbidden their worship on his premises they 
meekly obeyed and were careful not to trespass. 
They regarded him as a heartless anarchist to all 
Christendom — a merciless tyrant. 

Being opposed to all Christian worship, and a 
hopeless skeptic, Mr. Cain might be compared to 
the ancient Nero, who delighted to see the nations 
cower at the power of his majesty. Like Nero, he 
had no sympathy, and rejoiced at its destruction. 
He was so high-minded and haughty that h» never 
stooped, except in cases of necessity, to destroy the 
organization he detested. Once he ventured to 
give one hint as to the cause of his opposition to 


CAIN. 185 

Christianity and his aversion for the gentler sex. 
He said: — 

^‘Christianity led me to destruction, hurled me 
under its feet, trampled me in the dust, and would 
not dare to lift me up. Christianity is a fatuity. 

“As to the opposite sex, they are the most cor- 
rupt creatures in creation. A siren goddess of 
this feminine realm infatuated me once, enticed 
me into that fabulous sea of love, hurled my frail 
bark into her arms, and left me to go down, down, 
down. Women are the devil’s angels and love is 
a flaunting lie ! I wish to live only long enough 
to see women and Christianity both conquered !” 

4c 4c :fc Hi 4: 

The Temple of Ariadne was building. On the 
beautiful grassy eminence overlooking the lake 
south of Gethsemane its large foundation was laid. 
With the exception of a few men from the village 
who helped occasionally to hoist the heavier pieces 
there were just two men who worked hard and 
constantly at it. Strange to say, these two men 
were Mr. Cain and his friend Paix. Day after 
day they hauled timber, glass, granite, marble, 
and so forth, from the village depot, and stacked 
it on the Temple yard. These two gentlemen 
ceased their drinking carousals at night and 
worked hard. 

Mrs. Harwell noticed the change that had taken 
place in her nephew. It seemed so strange that 
Mr. Cain would work so hard night nda day 
at the construction of the Temple, when he was 
financially able to hire it done over and over again 
without the slightest inconvenience. There was 


186 CAIN. 

certainly a motive in it, or he would not act in this 
way. 

One beautiful afternoon Mamie was writing a 
letter to Mrs. Dillion, and w;hen she had finished 
it she put it in her apron pocket. She looked out 
through the library window at the glimmering 
radiations of solar effulgence, where ten thousand 
ether-winged lights flooded the space, mingling 
together and forming one grand scene of after- 
noon beauty. 

She beheld the deep-green southern valley en- 
wrapt in this maze of light. A mocking-bird twit- 
tered among the branches of a tall spreading 
maple, piping his clear contralto to the voices of 
nature. This tranquil sea of sunlight that stood 
over the deep valley, and the thrilling melody of 
the mocking-bird chanting his praises to the beau- 
ties of creation, filled Mamie with a fantastic de- 
sire to steal out into the deep solitudes of the val- 
ley. She took a copy of Fitzgerald’s ‘^Sunset 
Views” from the case, and started there, hum- 
ming an Italian love-song as she went. On her 
way, her thoughts traveled back to the sweet days 
of childhood and the banks of the Cumberland 
far away. 

Many a beautiful afternoon like this she had 
prattled on the lawn before the old Tennessee 
home and laughed at the receding gloiy of the 
sunset and laughed and screamed to the singing 
birds above her head. She lived over again the 
old happy days of chilhood. All that had ever 
made her happy came back to her now in sweet- 
est memories and gladdened her heart. But 
quickly a wave of sadness submerged all that she 


CAIN. 


187 


had entertained beautiful. It swept down upon 
her with the swirling memories of that scene which 
closed the sweet days of her childhood. Her little 
hand went to her throat to ease the choking sen- 
sation that always came there when bitter mem- 
ories tortured her. Tears filled her eyes, and she 
groaned once pitifully. 

She hurried on down into the valley. She heard 
a voice in the distance. She stopped to listen. It 
was a masculine voice, singing. On it came, a 
chanting melody she did not know. Melancholy, 
pathos and sadness mingled a thousand echoing 
voices into one pathetic strain. She listened with 
lips apart and eyes partly dimmed with tears. 

Suddenly the voice ceased, and Mamie walked 
on, with her head bowed in serious reflection. As 
she walked along, a detaining hand was laid upon 
her arm, and a voice in tenderest tones rang 
softly in her ear: 

“My darling 

She turned, half frightened, to see Mr. Cain 
standing over her. At first his face was all aglow 
with delight, but soon a scowl was frowning 
there. He spoke again : 

“What nymph has lured you out at this late 
hour of the day?” 

“I am going to rest here a little while and 
watch the sun set. But, Mr. Cain, you are 
rather early coming from your work, — why?” 

“The effect of drowsiness secreted my arteries 
and pervaded my nervous system and — well, in 
fact, I became lazy !” He paused and looked at 
the book in her hand, then continued : “The 
prominent purpose of your retreat to these soli- 


188 


CAIN. 


tildes is to read that infernal book. It is strange 
that you never read both sides of this great specu- 
lative doctrine — Infidelity as well as Christanity. 
Why donH you read Dante, Voltaire, Robert G. 
Ingersoll, Hobbs, Tacitus, Suetonius, Pliny, etc.? 
Then you would not, be so engrossed with the 
cheap trash that treats of your damnable organiza- 
tions. The aroma that leadens the air with fra- 
grance, probably entices you here to dream over 
these ethnological speculations and foolish ancient 
farces. ‘Dream,^ ’’ he mused to himself. ‘Ah ! 
yes ! I would fain lay me down in this quiet 
valley and dream my life away till, like the fabled 
Narcissus, there would be only a flower instead, 
typical of my last long resting-place.^’ 

He took her by the hand, led her to a pretty 
grassy knoll, seated her there like an object of 
scrutiny, then folded his arms, and looked down 
upon her. 

^'0 child, your life has been one long dream of 
peace, broken, perhaps, by an interval of tortured 
conscience. Once I dreamed too, but my charm- 
ing goddess of youth, Hebe, eluded me, and in my 
distorted state of mind, after having awakened 
from my sweet youthful dream, I was attacked by 
the inevitable Lachesis, and since then I have been 
only a victim of the Fates. I have longed for one 
sweet dream, but — Alas ! Even in dissipation I 
hoped to dream. Perhaps the drunken victims 
of strong drink find a solace in the delirious dreams 
that enshroud them in their slumbers, but not I. 
That weird master of the English tongue, Thomas 
DeQuincey, has a passage in his ‘'Confessions of 
an Opium-Eater’ which I memorized while sitting 


CAIN. 


189 


at the grand Amphitheatre of the decaying 
Coliseum in Rome, and I have tried to conceive 
of the solace its semblance even would bring me, 
but all in vain. He says, ‘^The machinery for 
dreaming planted in the human brain was not 
planted for nothing. That faculty, in alliance 
with the mysteries of darkness, is the one great 
tube through which man communicates with the 
shadow; and the dreaming organ, in connection 
with the heart, the eye and the ear, composes the 
magnificent apparatus which forces the infinite 
into the chambers of the human brain, and throws 
dark reflections from eternities below all life upon 
the mirrors of the sleeping mind.’ ” 

^And, as this author says,” Mamie held up the 
book, ‘He might as truly have said in dreams 
bright reflections from eternities above all sen- 
tious life are thrown upon the mirrors of the sleep- 
ing mind.’ ” 

She raised her face, which she had concealed 
in her hands while she spoke these words. 

“Why, child, what have you been crying about? 
Are you troubled?” 

Stray tears lingered on the silken lashes, and a 
wonderful luster shone from her eyes as she lifted 
them to his bent over her. 

“Mr. Cain, did I hear you singing a while ago ?” 

He laughed mockingly. “Did you ever hear 
anything musical come from the lips of a cynic? 
There is about as much music about me as there 
is about an old, time-worn, plantation scarecrow 
that stands out in space, majestically silent and 
haughty as the lonely Neptune. Yes, you heard 
me singing; but that isn’t the question. ‘Render 


190 


CAIN. 


unto Caesar that which is Caesar’s.’ Will you be 
so kind as to tell me what is your opinion of me ?” 

“Mr. Cain, we have lived very peaceably hereto- 
fore; pray do not seek to arouse controversy with 
me now. So far as you are concerned, it matters 
not if I regard you as I would an African Car- 
nivora, or as the ten derest plant in my flower- 
garden. I think, since we are of such diversity 
of opinions, our interviews should be brief, if at 
all. Good-by.” 

“I am grieved at the thought of detaining you, 
Miss Homean, but I prefer your remaining here a 
little while longer. Do you think I am happy?” 

A pearly shell-cloud glided over the sun, and for 
a moment the contrast of the shadow with the 
sunset lustre rendered the blue spectrum of the 
pretty, deep valley more intense. 

Mamie did not answer, and there was a long 
silence. 


CAIN. 


191 


CHAPTER XVI. . 

At length Mamie looked up at Mr. Cain. The 
cold glare of his magnetic eyes had vanished and a 
tender light shone there; a hopeless dying appeal 
pleaded there, betokening the fall of a proud 
spirit. He waited for an answer; his face rigid, 
his eyes pleading. 

^^Do you think I am happy?” His voice was 
strange, — deep, — husky, and his lips fluttered. 

‘Tt is the best policy, Mr. Cain, to be candid 
when the truth is exacted of us — you are unhappy ! 
You will never be happy again until you loose 
that tightening coil of skepticism that is stran- 
gling your soul. You are an infidel, Mr. Cain, and 
know the pain that tortures your soul, and you are 
the only one who can remove it. It is foolish for 
a sensible man to succumb to such destruction of 
his soul.” 

“Miss Homean, it is a matter of no importance 
about my soul ; for when death comes the terminus 
of existence is complete.” 

“Indeed ! It is not ! The term existence it- 
self signifies Trom everlasting to everlasting.’ 
Existence is co-extensive with eternity. ‘We have 
existed, we are existing, and we sha^l exist.’ Of 
Eternity our souls were born and unto Eternity 
shall we return.” 


192 


CAIN. 


^^Time and again I have heard such declarations. 
I have wondered at the mere conception of an 
Eternity. Were it possible that an Eternity 
exists, what is it for? It can claim no inheri- 
tance ; nothing can claim it as an inheritance. If 
it be it is as empty as it was created to be.’’ 

^^Oh, Mr. Cain, please do not talk to me that 
way! I point you to the ‘Lamb of God that 
taketh away the sins of the world.’ His cross I 
will follow. His cause I shall plead,” 

“Your saintly spirit rises in a kind of righteous 
indignation to abhor the truth that hurts it. I 
would warn you against all forms of deception. 
Do not allow yourself to be entrapped in the snares 
of the |alse doctrine to which you allude. Of 
course you have too much sense to believe the 
story of Eden and of the Immaculate Conception 
and the story of the Eesurrection and so forth.” 

“Mr. Cain, aside from your offensive and osten- 
tatious denial of Kevelation you are intellectual; 
but I must say you are deficient there.” 

“Ah, child, you are blinded as I once was. Just 
reason. Can the rational man possibly believe 
that which he cannot understand?” 

“Mr. Cain, you say you believe in no hereafter; 
what is death?” 

“ ‘Death is a leap into the dark.’ ” 

“You are probably an agnostic, then, also ?” 

“I am, indeed. I do not deny that there must 
he some first great cause, but I am refused all in- 
formation relating to it; therefore I simply bow 
to the inevitable and hold that, if immortality is 
the destiny of man his fitness for that new life 
must be attained by a blameless life here. I 


CAIN. 


193 


accept the teachings of Evolution as being ac- 
countable for animal and human life, but I can 
not explain the existence of the heavenly bodies 
in their spheres because I do not know. Only 
a short time ago I would have declared by all the 
pagan gods that were ever imagined that there 
was no immortality; but now, I do not wholly 
reject the doctrine of immortality. On the con- 
trary, I would almost feign hope for immortality, 
but ah, the disappointments I have suffered have 
taught me to entertain no new promises. Friend- 
ship is a mockery. Love is a curse, and all exist- 
ence is merely a flaunting lie ! All that remains 
of good is its name.” 

Mamie looked tenderly into his darkening coun- 
tenance and asked gently and sweetly: 

“Mr. Cain, did you never think how something 
sometimes whispers in your soul of an immor- 
tality? Oh, you cannot deny the inspiration that 
has, on some eventful moment, fllled your heart. 

solemn murmur in the soul 
Tells of a world to he 
As travelers hear the billows roll 
Before they reach the sea.* 

“Oh, Mr. Cain, you denounce the precious 
Bible — you say it is an ancient fable We will 
assume for the sake of explanation that it is a 
fable; the Christian civilization is the grandest 
the world has ever known; it is the protection of 
the purity, chastity and sanctity of the home, of 
law and order in the community, and of the 
supremacy of government. It has brought man- 


194 


CAIN. 


kind to a higher plane of living than all other 
agencies combined. But it is not a fable. It ia 
the purest volume of history, romance, poetry and 
law in the world. It contains the beautiful stories 
that generations after generations from ages and 
ages back have loved and read, and yet it is as 
new and true as it was when God first breathed 
his divine inspiration within its sacred pages. 
If we are true and loyal to his great cause we 
will all learn that there is a blessing in such disap- 
pointment as you mention. 

" 'All that we have willed, or hoped or dreamed of 
good shall exist; 

Not its semblance but itself; 

No beauty, nor good, nor power 

Whose voice has gone forth, but each survives 
for the melodist 

When Eternity affirms the conception of an hour, 

'"The high that proved too high the heroic for 
earth too hard. 

The passion that left the ground to lose itself 
in the shies. 

Are music sent up to God by the lover and the 
bard; 

Enough that he heard it once^ We shall hear it 
by and by."* 

When she ceased to speak a half suppressed 
groan escaped his lips ; he leaned his head against 
a tree by him and she noticed his strong frame 
slightly quiver. Just how long he remained thus 
she knew not, but finally when he raised his face 


CAIN. 195 

a despairing scowl darkened it and frenzy shone 
in his eyes. 

The sun had taken unto himself all his glory 
and a beautiful twilight brooded over the valley. 

Mamie turned toward the house and soon he 
was by her side. 

The dusky fresco of gloaming slowly sank into 
the bosom of a charming cloudless night. A 
smiling moon ventured to peep over the hill top as 
if spying the landscape to see if “all’s well,” then, 
after an apparent brief stop it rode full-orbed out 
upon the evening skies. 

They walked on up the path in silence and be- 
neath a clear moonlit sky. The beautiful globu- 
lar satellite draped the boundless universe with 
her silver light and spread a mantel before their 
feet. 

When they stepped upon the veranda she could 
see his face by the light from the bay-window and 
for the first time she saw tears trickling down his 
cheeks. His teeth chattered as he ventured to bid 
her good-night. He opened the door for her, then 
turned, jumped from the veranda to the ground, 
and yelled that strange mountain halloo as he 
went. 

Mamie ran to her little room on the second 
fioor and sat down by the little open window. 
The low murmur of the falls drifted to her in en- 
chanting symphonies and the breezes sang their 
sweet carol as they toyed with the foliage of the 
tall trees and fanned her feverish face. 

It was here she tried to forget the handsome 
face that looked at her in the valley. It was here 
she struggled to master her heart and dethrone the 


196 


CAIN. 


intruding king that had enthroned himself there. 
She brought to bear all her deep-seated aversion 
for the man who had wilfully and maliciously 
scorned her sex and wounded her pride. She 
hated herself one minute then pitied herself the 
next. Why should she seek to screen the sins of 
his black wicked past? What voice was it that 
tried to tell her he was not so callous and wicked 
as he seemed? She buried her face in her hands. 

sic % 4c 4c * 

Mr. Cain sat under the shade of a tree in the 
center of the flower-garden reading from his 
favorite Dante. As he sat reading of the Gari- 
senda to which Dante makes reference in his ^Gn- 
ferno/’ comparing the giant who stoops to seize 
him and Virgil to the tower at a time when it 
was cloud-capped, a soft strain of music sounded 
and drifted across the garden to him. Lilian had 
taken her seat at the piano and had begun to play 
softly. As she played on she began to sing the 
beautiful Italian love-song which she had quite 
often heard her governess sing and play. Like 
rare anthems snatched from a new heaven they 
fell upon his ear in rapturous swells, and he suc- 
cumbed to the power of its enchantment, dropping 
his book listlessly on the ground. He had heard 
the carol sung by an opera singer in Genoa, Italy, 
but the soul was not entangled in the melody as 
it was in this to which he now listened. His 
almost petrified heart began to soften, and soon 
he forgot all his wicked obstinacy in his en- 
thusiasm. He looked back to the happy days 
when such, music inspired his soul with noble 
thoughts and mingled with the love he cherished 


CAIN. 


197 


for his darling. And as he thus ruminated there 
came to him, in faint swells of music, the old, old 
story w'afted to him on love-laden breezes; and as 
that story rippled from the trembling lips of 
music he fancied he could hear the gentle beating 
of her and his heart beating time to the melody 
of their souls. He was lulled by its charms. 
“Music can noble thoughts impart, and manage 
all men.^^ 

He drew nearer to the window through which 
the music flowed and peeping through the cream 
lace curtains, which stirred now and then as the 
breezes swayed them, he beheld the glory of her 
face upturned toward God. The sentiment of 
the melody leaped from her glory-lit face and 
smiled from the mirror of her lovely eyes as the 
music sped away. Tears were trickling down her 
cheeks, still she sang. 

When the piece was flnished she dashed the 
stray tears away; then her nimble Angers leaped 
ecstatically over the keys, producing the thrilling 
waltz, “Echoes from the South.^^ 

Again Cain remembered the beautiful girl of 
German nobility who played this waltz on the 
eve of their bethrothal, while he stood by her and 
praised her proflciency. Well he remembered the 
evening when he stood with her in the moonlight 
that streamed in through the grand colonnade of 

the B Palace in Paris and there won her 

tender affections, then cruelly deserted her for- 
ever. Conscience arrayed itself before his guilty 
soul to do battle and for the flrst time since he 
crushed the fair Lily of Germany he tasted the 


198 


CAIN. 


bitter dregs of remorse. Conscience struggled and 
his burdened heart strove to conquer it. 

The chords trembled; the bass notes thundered 
and the music glided away into a sweet carol-like 
symphony of ‘‘Break the News to Mother.” 

Cain yielded himself entirely and truning 
quickly he entered the cool darkened drawing- 
room, took up his mandolin and joined in tha 
harmony. Lilian looked up at him and smiled. 

From “Love’s Awakening Waltz” to “Leonie, 
Queen of My Heart,” they glided into the pathos 
of “I’ve Just Come Back to Say Good-By.” And 
when the last pathetic strain had flown away to 
join the silence, Lilian turned upon Mr. Cain and 
smiled dreamily. There was a hushed pause and 
they drank each other’s gaze. 

“I am surprised that you can play any kind of 
instrumental music at all, Mr. Cain. You have 
never played since you have been here; and you 
are so accomplished with the mandolin. Why 
can’t you accompany me often when I play?” 

“I can play only when the music is in my heart. 
Perhaps when the last gentle note of this music 
ceases to echo in my heart it may never be revived 
again. Something sounded sweet at the door of 
my blackened soul when your voice thrilled with 
its grand music and I hearkened to its call. I 
came forth from the deep tomb of my sleeping 
oblivion and ventured once more to touch the 
cup of new life to my lips and taste the love I once 
worshipped. Now, since I have come into this 
beautiful realm and tasted the sweets of paradise, 
I must retreat and wander back to the dark 


CAIN. 


199 


sepulchre of my buried youth and again roll the 
stone over it to remain forever. Good-by.’^ 

He dropped the instrument on the sofa and 
was about to depart. 

^Tray do not go yet, Mr. Cain, till you have 
accompanied me in a parting lay.^’ 

Her smile drew him back; he took up the in- 
strument again. She turned to the piano again 
and Lounded a soft dreamy prelude. Then began: 

^'Shall we gather at the river 

Where bright angeVs feet have trod. 

With its crystal tides forever 
Flowing by the throne of Godf 
Cain hesitated, looked toward the floor with 
a scowl creeping over his brow. Lilian noticed 
this and smiled as he looked up at her. He could 
not resist the purity, the power of that smile. He 
bowed his head, touched the strings, and lo ! the 
sweetest anthems ever heard filled the air with 
their grand music. 

At the sounding of the last note Cain threw 
his mandolin upon the sofa, gathered the child in 
his arms, kissed her sweet lips, and slowly walked 
from the room. 

Love conquered the child and she marveled at 
the strange sensation that stirred in her heart. 
Her affections for that wicked man were too strong 
to be doubted. She looked at his handsome form 
walking down the path toward the fountain and 
involuntarily she murmured in dreamy child-like 
simplicity : ‘‘He is mine.” 


200 


CAIN. 


CHAPTER XVII. 

Lilian and her governess arranged to take a 
morning ramble. 

They went to the large spring. 

“Lilian, it was here we first saw the grim 
Master of ‘Gethsemane,’ Do you remember?’’ 

“I shall never forget,” was the low mournful 
answer. She paused a moment, then continued: 
“It is a pity that such a powerful intellectual man 
has wasted his wonderful talent in excessive vice 
and an unhappy life. Oh, I would give half the 
world if he were a Christian man. Will you pray 
for him? I love him, and it will break my heart 
if he dies in sin. Will you pray?” 

“Dear Lilian, I have prayed for him when only 
the silent stars beheld my devotional attitude; I 
have prayed for him during the busy hours of the 
day; my life is one long endless prayer for him.” 

“Oh, I know he will be saved then. God will 
hear your intercessory prayers, for you are always 
so full of faith. I trust he will be rescued from 
the clutches of his awful wretched life and at last 
be brought back to Jesus.” 

Mamie’s face shadowed. Her little pupil said 
that she loved that scornful wicked man. But 
why should she care ? She hated her weak 


CAIN. 


201 


cowardly self. She was humilated at the thought 
that she could no longer control her wayward 
restless heart. 

They left the spring and returned to ‘^Gethsem- 
ane.’" 

That evening after Lilian’s recitation was heard 
she and her governess walked out through the 
dusky gardens and lawns plucking blossoms and 
admiring their beauty and loveliness. Lilian 
called Donnie, who came leaping to her across 
the meadow. 

^‘0 Donnie, will you always love me?” She 
put her little dimpled snow-white arms around the 
fawn’s gray velvety neck. 

^‘Yes, always. Donnie came to me from the 
wild mountains and he is going with me back to 
Washington.” 

Donnie’s velvety eyes turned pleasingly and 
looked as if he recognized the meaning of her 
words. 

^^By-by, Donnie, I will come with Cecil and 
bring you some milk, and some hay to make your 
bed.” The pet galloped away to join the other 
deer that grazed in the frescades of the spreading 
trees. 

The governess and her pupil walked down to 
the little brown bridge and stood on it looking 
down into the water while Lilian threw little bits 
of bread down to the swans that swam about in 
the clear smooth water like a harbored fleet. Now 
and then her clear voice would burst out into 
gleeful laughter as a flsh would swim to the sur- 
face and devour a stray crumb. 

^'Some day before I go away, Lilian, we must 


202 


CAIN. 


take a boat ride on this beautiful stream. It will 
be perfectly delightful.” 

Lilian laughed with hearty anticipation, and 
they returned to the mansion. 

As they walked along the path, the evening sun 
swept its slanting rays across hills and above 
darkening valleys. The bleating lambs uttered 
their pitiful cries; the proud peacocks piped their 
shrill fifes down in the glade and Mamie’s beau- 
tiful albatross stood sulkily on one foot by the 
door touching his snow-white down with lubricat- 
ing properties. 

Mr. Cain had returned early from his work 
and as Mamie entered the corridor the breath of 
fresh cigar smoke slightly strangled her, and she 
knew that he was there. She reluctantly went to 
the partly open door of the rotunda and peeped 
in. He was gently swaying himself back and 
forth in the large armchair. She knocked on the 
door for admittance. 

^^Come in!” he growled. 

‘^Would you regard me as encroaching should 
I enter?” she asked. 

*^You may come in if you will !” was the im- 
patient answer. 

She opened the door and stepped in. But his 
rudeness caused her to turn away. 

^Tray do not go yet.” She stopped, '^ou 
will some day pardon me for having detained you 
as I have. Take this chair.” 

She took the proffered chair and sat opposite 
him. 

^^Mamie, you have been such a devoted little 
saint, holding to the principles of truth, forgive- 


CAIN. 


203 


ness, faith and trust. I have never found you 
inconsistent one time. Now, child, I trust to your 
truthfulness and integrity this moment. Oh, do 
not shatter my weak confidence. Can you truth- 
fully say that there is not one spark of hatred in 
your heart for me? Forgiveness! Ah, remember, 
be cautious; for on one thing, one slender thread, 
hangs the eternal destiny of a human soul. 

‘‘Through all the cycles of time there have 
been some outcast wanderers on the desert of a 
bleak ice-bound zone of skepticism and unbelief, 
who have continuously sought the fabulous Klon- 
dyke that they never found but plunged into an 
abyss of ruin. Oh, why is it that conscience, which 
has been dead so long, rises and comes forth from 
its gloomy sepulchre to stand like a grim spectre 
at the facade of its own dreary tomb where it 
burned to ashes in its youth? The strongest will 
can not confine it there; the blackest crime can 
not kill it forever. 

“There is some mystery about this great world 
of humanity. Why is it that civilized humanity 
has adopted the Bible as its guide? Why is it 
that only a few have rejected it? And why is it 
that mankind in one great phalanx have learned 
to believe that which they cannot understand? 
Why are Bob Ingersoll and his followers scoffed 
at and ridiculed to scorn?’’ 

His eyes were full of desolation and his voice 
was tired and far away. 

“Mr. Cain, it is because Ingersoll and his fol- 
lowers can see only intellectually and logically, 
while all Christian people see both spiritually and 
intellectually. Hear the Word of God which 


204 


CAIN. 


says, ^It is the spirit that quickeneth . . . . , the 
words that I speak unto you, they are spirit and 
they are life/ It is true that God has spoken to 
us in a mysterious way through the sacred inspira- 
tion of His Word, but He has never failed to fulfil 
His glorious promises laid down in that sacred 
Book. It is, indeed, very foolish to trifle with 
His grand plan. His holy work. He has said that 
it is not given unto all men to know the mysteries 
of His Kingdom. We can come to Him only 
through the medium of the Spirit, for He is a 
Spirit. The nearest approach to a perfect knowl- 
edge of the Bible is through that precious exhor- 
tation which says: ^Who hath ears to hear, let 
him hear.’ You have read in the great Book 
where the Spirit of God speaks through the 
prophet Esaias, saying : ^By hearing ye shall 
hear, and shall not understand; and ye shall see 
and not perceive.’ Mr. Cain, you cannot de- 
nounce the inspiration of God’s Book through the 
merits of its inconsistency; for I have completely 
proven that it is absolutely consistent ; and I warn 
you, do not tamper with Him who is all holiness, 
love and mercy and wisdom; who is all-powerful, 
omnipotent, and a mystery to man.” 

Her solemn words were clear and firm in ac- 
cents, and she looked upon him as though she 
v/ere one who had the ascribed dignity of “one 
speaking with authority.” Her fine eyes sparkled 
in the light of the chandeliers which Cecil had 
just lit, and her beautiful face glowed with the 
lustre of inspiration. 

Like a captured infidel who had run ashore 
with his argument, Cain had nothing more to say. 


CAIN. 


205 


He was simply silent. He could not refute 
Mamie’s argument, neither would he submit to 
its truth. He only looked vacantly and despair- 
ingly at the beautiful girl before him. 

Mamie drew a quick breath and rose from her 
chair. 

‘^Mr. Cain, I am unwell, I must go.” 

She started for the door, but he caught her 
back. 

‘‘Tell me, dear Mamie, do you hate me?” 

She could not bear his gaze. She tried to 
escape, but he held her tight, pressing her hands 
in his strong grasp. 

“Ah, child,” he said, “you cannot trust your- 
self to look at me. You refuse to speak because 
you cannot tell a falsehood and will not admit 
the truth. You are too proud to admit it. 

“Now, dear child, hear me. He who seeks to 
end life’s misery by ending his existence is des- 
tined to eternal hell, is he not? Is even the 
attempt an unpardonable sin?” 

He fixed his cold, searching eyes upon her pale 
face, but she continued to avoid his magnetic eyes, 
while she answered: 

“The act, of course, is unpardonable; the at- 
tempt can be redeemed.” 

“Were you ever guilty of the ‘attempt’?” 

She caught her breath. Too well she remem- 
bered when she left a home to face a cruel world 
in behalf of Leland Burnett. For it was she who 
stood on the cliff, looked down into the muddy 
water below, and with a cry sprang. But little 
she knew who it was who had caught her that 
gloomy morning and drew her back. She only 


206 


CAIN. 


remembered standing there struggling with the 
evil spirit that decoyed to her from the deep 
hungry water below, of springing from the bluff, 
of an unseen hand catching her back and of seeing 
a disguised figure of a woman walk away through 
the mist and fog. Ah, the ghastly memory of 
such a premeditated suicide! 

‘^Mr. Cain,” she said in a tremulous voice, ‘^you 
will please let me go, I am ill.” 

‘Ah, yes, Mamie, I am ill too; in the same 
sense that you are ill. I have suffered death after 
death for these long torturing years. You do not 
give answer to my question, but I know it all too 
well !” 

He threw his proud head back and laughed 
triumphantly. 

“And you cannot say that you hate me and yet 
you will not admit that you like me. Once you 
detested me ; you do not now. Once I was a devil 
and my very sight provoked the wrath of Jove on 
your brow; now I am a king enthroned in your 
heart, and I, though vile I may be, am the su- 
preme object of your daily worship. Ah, Mamie, 
you tremble at what you term the awful truth. 
You hate me, you love me; you distrust me, yet 
you cling to me ! Mamie, darling, I know that 
the Christ you love seems merciful and just to 
you — if there be a Christ. I know that the life 
you live in the realms of your holy religion is 
sweet to you; but to me it proved to be a most 
cruel and treacherous life, and long ago I fled 
from it., I know that you have friends whom you 
say you can trust — you say they are tender- 
hearted ; but long ago the beautiful temple of my 


CAIN. 


207 


Tintainted youth, in which I worshipped the in- 
tegrity of mankind and paid homage to the beau- 
tiful life of my kind in whom my pure young 
heart trusted with pure fidelity, went down under 
the terrible crash of lost confidence, and it 
crumbled to dust. It was then that the tighten- 
ing coil of that serpent strangled my young heart 
to death. Those friends who worshipped therein 
with me turned to demons. Now I believe, I 
know that the hearts of men and women are as 
pitiless as that of the Egyptian marble Harpoc- 
rates resting on that table there.’^ He paused a 
moment. 

‘And I awake from my dark sequestered corner 
and through the gloom of this dreary life I see 
you verging on the very edge of that yawning 
abyss over which I was plunged. I see that same 
fickle Eros that led me over the precipice, leading 
you along the way; and I, though pitiless I may 
seem, come forth and put out a warning hand to 
rescue you. Oh, Mamie, child, do not trust the 
fair promises of life nor the fatuity of your 
hopes ! Oh, child, do as I did. Flee from the 
treachery of that human nature of which you 
speak so reverently and tenderly. Anarchists are 
hidden about in an ambuscade with their chiseled 
tomahawks ready to scalp you ere you tread the 
extremities of life’s uneven journey. Some day 
mankind will reject you with disdain and, My 
God ! how bitter is the cup which I have drunk 
from the dregs of lost confidence! Oh, child, take 
heed from a man who has proven the cruel 
world I” 

The mournful tone of his voice calmed to purest 


208 


CAIN. 


tenderness and it touched her heart till she felt 
the tears rising as she responded in a low uncer- 
tain tone: 

'^Mr. Cain, I asked you once to withhold the 
painful discussion of such subjects as are not 
pleasant to us. Because this world is not made 
up of the immaculate personages of seraphim and 
cherubim, the personification of the purest 
celestial hierarchy, is no reason that it is a vast 
Hades of such ^faithless traitorous monsters as 
Ezzolino and the Viscount/ who have disgraced 
our race with the stain of Humanity’s blood. Re- 
member, 0 remember, that the sins of wicked men 
never are so great but that our Saviour can redeem 
the sinful one. 0 for my sake, Mr. Cain, come 
back to Jesus!” 

He loosed her hands instantly, drew a quick 
breath, and staggered to his chair, where he seated 
himself and bowed his head in silence. 

Mamie looked at him a moment, then left him 
alone. 

For the first time in years his heart was stirred 
deeply and he wept like a passionate child. At 
last he looked up, took the pretty vaulted shell, 
opened it and looked long and wistfully at the 
beautiful face of her photo. He at last closed it, 
and rising with a despairing agony on his face, 
his mournful voice went up hopeless: 

“Oh, horrible memories, depart ! I am lost I I 
am lost I” 


CAIN. 


209 


CHAPTER XVIIL 

^^Lonely Vicinity” had become a noted place 
under the leadership of the angel who had come 
to minister unto its people. The Sunday-school 
flourished more and more at every meeting. 

Mamie rejoiced and praised God that He had 
blessed her feeble efforts with such abundant suc- 
cess. Human nature would confer the honor of 
such holy work upon its wonderful leader, but 
Mamie always closed her prayers with the beau- 
tiful humble offer : ‘^All the praise shall be thine, 
most holy and divine Lord.” 

Meantime the grand Temple in the mountain 
was completed. The mystery of its existence and 
purpose awed all who came near it. Many were 
the unanswered inquiries made by the villagers 
who had begun to frequently pass through the 
“Gethsemane” premises, concerning the magnifi- 
cent building that stood out majestically silent 
and symbolical of something unknown. 

Mamie, on her way from “Lonely Vicinity,” 
paused to look at it and wonder what the curious 
shadows on the stained arched windows meant. 
Often she paused at the beautiful marble steps 
to look at the beautiful Biblical symbol of ^'Faith 
and OhediencF' that stood by the door, and while 


210 


CAIN. 


she thus viewed its solemn import she wept 
passionately for the poor wretched soul of Mr. 
Cain. 

This symbol was an altar of gray granite stones 
artistically fitted into each other with polished 
edges and rough relief surfaces. At the top it 
was bordered with carvings of gold within the 
borders of which lay a perfectly fitting white 
marble slab. Upon this lay the sculptured 
marble image of the bound and offered Isaac. By 
this altar stood another statue image of the 
^'Faithful Abraham” with a bit of fire in a swing- 
ing basin suspended in one hand by a gold chain, 
and a lance in the other, preparing to offer up to 
God his precious son Isaac in ^Taithful Obedience 
to His Will.” 

As Mamie pondered over the beautiful altar and 
its accompanying images a new light broke in 
upon her heart. Surely the thought that 
prompted him to erect this emblem of ‘Taith and 
Obedience” was a pure and holy one. But did it 
seem credible that so wicked a man as he would 
have ventured to have done such a good deed? 
At last she was happy; there was dawning in her 
pure, earnest heart a faint hope for his final salva- 
tion. 

But as weeks passed away she eagerly sought 
for some manifestation of his repentance, all in 
vain. 

He was as vicious as he had always been, scoffing 
at and cursing every redeeming trait of human 
nature and every token of Christian friendship. 
Yet he was less harsh and wicked toward Mamie. 

One day Mamie had returned from a visit to 


CAIN. 


211 


'T.onely Vicinity’^ and had gone into the library. 
The first thing that greeted her eyes was Cain’s 
new large Bible lying open upon the table with a 
sealed message addressed to her lying upon the 
open pages. 

She at once recognized the handwriting of Mr. 
Cain. She trembled as she took it in her hands. 
Ah! She dreaded its contents. But while she 
looked at it one sweet thought touched her face 
with a smile. 

She broke the seal and while a solemn stillness 
hovered over the room she read: 

“To Mamie: 

“At last the new Temple is completed and soon 
it shall be opened for service. 

“You have the privilege of dedicating it to the 
Lord whom you and your little band in ^Lonely 
Vicinity’ worship. I herewith bequeath the 
Temple of Ariadne to the religious society of 
‘Lonely Vicinity.’ 

“Oh, Mamie, it depends upon your action con- 
cerning whether you accept this Temple as a holy 
one or not and whether you enter into service in 
it or not as to the eternal destiny of one poor 
wretched soul. Be cautious in your righteous in- 
dignation and be not too proud to utilize the 
Temple that a poor wicked, callous man con- 
structed with his own labor. Remember, 0 re- 
member ! Yours, Cain.” 

What mysterious power was it that shook 
Mamie’s person when she had read that letter? 
It fluttered from her hands and she covered her 
face in her palms and wept passionately. It was 
all she could do. To reject the Temple would be 


212 


CAIN. 


perhaps a foreboding of disaster to her religions 
work in ‘‘Lonely Vicinity/’ and to accept it 
seemed wickedly tolerant of worldly vice and evil. 
But trusting all to the Lord she would devote the 
mysterious Temple to his service. 

During the afternoon Mamie meant to visit 
the new Temple. 

The summer breezes climbed softly up the cool 
fresco of the solemn grove that reposed peacefully 
on the hillside. Occasionally they seemed to lull 
themselves to sleep in the rocking tree-tops, then 
arouse from their tranquil slumbering reverie, 
turn back the myriads of drooping leaves from 
over them and hold them thus till the sunshine 
silvered their upturned sides with a lustre that 
made them seem as if they were laughing joy- 
fully at their superior excellency. 

With her eyes fixed on the cool pathway that 
led down into the valley where almost a perfect 
shadow brooded serenely, broken only by an occa- 
sional slip of sunshine here and there, Mamie 
walked toward the church and pleaded with her 
heart to relinquish its claim upon its idol. 

The blood beat angrily and sullenly at her 
temples and throbbed heavily at her heart. She 
walked silently on and while the beauty of the 
afternoon was spread out like a fairy land before 
her she saw not its excellency but refiected over 
the past to the time when the fatal love blow 
struck her from the eyes of Cain. Oh, she would 
gladly forget him if she could, but, oh, the awful 
fate, too late ! too late ! The king had ended his 
conquest and was conqueror; but Mamie Homean, 
once so proud and free, was now bound down in 


CAIN. 


213 


fetters and chains and was at last a slave. Oh, 
she would give the world to have been spared the 
awful ordeal of reviewing the unhappy past. She 
even allowed a Satanic influence to hold converse 
with her conscience; and she slightly felt a desire 
to fall a victim to the fate of Virgil who was put 
to death to prevent his reviewing the iEneid. 
For the past few months had been even a tragical 
^neid poem in which her heart had been slaugh- 
tered and sacrificed at the price of an ill-fated 
love. 

At last she stood in front of the grand Basilica. 

The plan of its construction was of artistic 
Greek design, measuring from back to front one 
hundred sixty-four feet and seventy-nine feet in 
width. 

The majestic Ionic-columned porch added a 
symmetrical module of architectural taste of regu- 
lation, thus prolonging the axis. 

The choir end formed a half circle. 

Mamie could not help but admire without re- 
serve the impressive solidity of its general mass, 
the conformity of the lines, the amplitude of the 
domes over which the bell tower dominated soar- 
ing alone into the ethereal depths. All the blocks 
had been fitted and adjusted with infinite care 
during the construction and the powerful edifice 
stood with perfect equilibrium. 

In elevation the exterior showed three fagades, 
three small cupolas, the larger central dome and 
the campanile. Besides the front entrance by way 
of the vestibule, there was a great entrance at 
the back end of the transversal axis where magnifi- 
cent ambulatories adorned the edifice, affording 


214 CAIN. 

pleasant walking galleries and insuring free circu- 
lation of crowds. 

Mamie stepped upon the pure granite-paved 
arched gallery and opened the door. The solemn 
echo of her footstep upon the marble door-sill 
thrilled her with a ^Tantastic dread.” But soon 
she walked on the carpeted aisle and no re- 
verberating echo told of her silent tread. 

She saw a grand spacious gallery crowded with 
symmetrically arranged seats. This was called 
the church proper. Beneath this was the crypt. 

She went alone through its galleries and differ- 
ent departments, viewing its imposing grandeur. 
She walked about the four large pillars that sus- 
tained the central dome, thinking, thinking, think- 
ing, of Cain — always Mr. Cain. Oh, how her 
heart ached now that she beheld his excellent 
work. Only one pitiful utterance escaped her 
lips as she leaned her face against one of the 
columns and wept; it was this: 

^^Oh, Mr. Cain !” 

After she had viewed the beautiful pulpit, the 
circular choir and the altar, she egressed the 
solemn sanctuary and started home. 

The rumor was afloat that the new proposed 
church for the ‘^Lonely Vicinity” would not be 
begun till the following summer and that the 
large church belonging to Mr. Cain would be open 
to service until then. 

Mamie made public announcement that all 
services thereafter would be conducted in the 
Temple. 

They assembled Sabbath after Sabbath there to 
worship, and all wondered at the absence of its 


CAIN. 


215 


owner. They naturally expected him to he pres- 
ent at the church of his own design. 

Large crowds from the village filled its pews 
and the long-secluded spot of “Gethsemane” began 
to be a prominent place for religious assembly. 
But for the darkening shadows that brooded over 
it like grim death or the gloom of wickedness 
caused by the wicked callous instigations of its 
master, it would have been a holy consecrated spot 
where the holy peace of God reigned supremely. 

One night Mamie lay awake with her eyes 
turned toward her window through which a beau- 
tiful slip of moonshine shone, revealing the faint 
lustre of the carpet on the floor and its exquisite 
texture and draping the fringed edges of the 
parted curtains with soft silvery light. 

The scene was so enchanting that she rose, drew 
her chair close to the window, seated herself in it 
and with silent admiration viewed the silent re- 
pose of nature. She had not rested there long 
when the tramp of feet in the corridor below 
caused her to pause. She heard a voice as of 
some one contending with another. She was 
startled and she listened and waited breathlessly. 
At last she looked out and saw two gentlemen, one 
of whom she recognized as Mr. Cain, walking 
along the walk-way leading to the Babylon gate. 
The other gentleman was bound like a prisoner 
and Mr. Cain walked beside him with a pistol 
drawn over him. Her heart fluttered and seemed 
to stand still. What could Mr. Cain mean? Oh, 
he seemed so cruel. What poor unfortunate being 
had come to “Gethsemane’^ that night to meet the 


216 CAIN. 

fate of an intruder at the mercy of the master’s 
hands ? 

When Cain and his prisoner had reached the 
brow of the hill which descended into the opposite 
side into the valley she saw the prisoner leap for- 
ward as if to escape. A glittering wave of the 
pistol and then a deep echoing report from it 
brought the prisoner to a halt. They disappeared 
among the shadows of the forest and she heard 
them no more. Mamie fell upon her knees. 

None but the most humble and contrite spirit 
can feel the wonderful depths of an earnest peti- 
tion to Almighty God. Only Mamie Homean 
could ever know the deep earnest pleadings of her 
desolate heart for the wretched man who pos- 
sessed it completely. 

The spirit leaps beyond all power and tenden- 
cies of conscience to restrain it and stands trem- 
bling before the awful majestic court of the Grea,t 
Supreme Judge of all Eternity and Creation, 
pleading the cause of the wretched and ruined 
idol — pleading with no other cause than for the 
sake of the suffering spirit itself. 

One beautiful afternoon in August, Mr. Cain, 
Mrs. Harwell, Lilian, and her governess were sit- 
ting on the long veranda that stretched along the 
east side of the mansion. They were silent, 
watching the beauties of nature that were re- 
vealed in the upturned faces of the pretty flowers 
that nodded to the passing breezes. Lilian had 
her sweet eyes fixed upon the flower of her admira- 
tion as he slowly rocked in his armchair in the 
person of Mr. Cain. With a feeling of jealousy, 
Mamie read in those yearning pensive eyes a world 


CAIN. 


217 


of purest love. And as she observed the secret of 
her protegee's innocent heart she felt the sullen 
throbbing of her own heart tending to estrange 
itself from the once sweet union of tenderest 
affections. She bit her lip and a tear looked out 
through her silken lashes. 

'‘It must not be so. Oh, it must not!” she 
murmured to herself. She would never allow an 
ill-guided prejudice to sever the bond between 
them. She could not bear to know the sweet, 
innocent child should ever suffer that keen disap- 
pointment that such disloyalty would cause. 

While they sat in silence, Mr. Cain at length 
broke the silence: 

"I sometimes wonder if my old frere Paix 
doesn’t feel happier in his careless unconcerned 
way of living than we who are continually on a 
field of religious and skeptical conquest. Or I 
have even ventured further in such speculations 
and asked conscience if existence in a cryptic tomb 
isn’t even sweeter than this struggling life from 
which we get only a tantalizing glimpse of that 
mysterious paradise?” 

Lilian measured every word and fathomed their 
mysterious depths and when he finished, tears had 
gathered in her eyes. She drew nearer to him 
and spoke tenderly and sadly: 

"Mr. Cain, try to think of a 'sweet by and by,’ 
and try to think that you will finally be good 
enough to share its eternal happiness.” 

A tender smile conquered the scowl that had 
so long invaded his face. 

"It is useless, child, to try, even if there were 
such an eternal happiness awaiting us.” 


218 CAIN. 

A quiver of the glossy beard told that his lips 
trembled. 

‘^‘'Well, that is all that I can say, Mr. Cain; it 
is your obstinacy that will rob you of your in- 
heritance in Heaven.” 

Cain did not answer, and there was several 
minutes of silence. 

There was a lustre painted on the clouds that 
were diving beneath the glory of the sun. They 
w^ere Lilian’s favorite clouds. 

^T think,” said Mr. Cain at length, before 
another splendid turn-out from the village invades 
my premises in conquest of geological research, I 
must absent myself from their detestable scrutiny 
and flee to the deep solemn uninhabited caves of 
the shadowy flords of Norway. I would sooner 
be infested with Italian tarantulas than to be 
deviled with them.” 

^^The undeniable right to erudition haunts the 
scientist to the undiscovered portions of secret 
mountain vales and caves and hills where per- 
chance they find food for their insatiably hungry 
brain,” put in Lilian. ^^You should not wish to 
deprive any one of this harmless, felicitous right 
nor detest their thoughtless intrusions and staring 
scrutiny. You just go right straight and get 
your mandolin or banjo and play a carol, call it 
the ^Scientist’s Dream’ or Am I so Strange that 
Scrutiny is My Enemy?’ or something like that; 
I think you will feel much less morose than to 
be talking about a fabulous plague of Italian 
tarantulas.” 

There was a mischievous twinkle in her cun- 
ningly smiling eyes as she looked the Oracle of 


CAIN. 


219 


"Grethsemane’^ in the face. A hearty chuckle 
from old aunt Becky, the colored servant who sat 
on the doorstep, brought about a lively flow of 
mirth through the little assembly. Mr. Cain 
gathered the child into his arms and fixed his 
glittering eyes upon the governess. 

sometimes think,” he said, ^^that it is a fail- 
ure on the part of the Power of Creation that 
only a few angels like this one were created to 
make this dream of life, this ^sourgraped^ man- 
kind, happier with their humorous, sedative na- 
tures.” 

‘And I have often wondered,” retorted Mrs. 
Harwell, “why bright minds are so blinded as to 
fail to comprehend the beauty and reality of all 
human goodness and nobility.” 

“Ah, my most noble and unblinded aunt, when 
you shall have passed through the ‘fiery furnace’ 
of rigid experience then you will inherit a desire 
to ‘flee from the wrath to come’ — the infesting 
plague of tantalizing hypocritical humanity. His- 
torians do the ancient Nero an injustice in their 
critical annals when they record his deeds as evil. 
He had a wicked, rebellious people to deal with. 
And even if he did instigate the Nine-Days’ Con- 
flagration of Rome it was only to gratify his 
curiosity to behold a burning city. His subjects 
were more wicked than he was. It was all right 
for him to have the Eternal City burned, to have 
the Christians persecuted if it was any pleasure to 
him; for all the happiness that he could possibly 
obtain was to be gotten out of this life any way.” 

“Cain, there is another interesting item in the 
facts of all the historians’ records of immortalized 


220 


CAIN. 


characters. You are pleased to take up characters 
to illustrate your doctrine and you are exceed- 
ingly pleased to use the names of Hobbs and 
Boyle, and Shaftsbury and Bolingbroke, and 
Hume and Voltaire and Gibbon, who instigated 
and cultivated the skeptical philosophy you have 
so misfortunately engendered. Along with Nero 
and Napoleon and Dante and Virgil and the 
aforesaid compare Moses and Joshua and Samuel 
and last of all our own dear Saviour, Jesus Christ. 
Cain, there is one interesting fact — all historians 
have proven a blessing to their race by having pre- 
served the sanctity and truth of all that they have 
ever recorded. In fact they have been brief in 
their biographies of those characters whose lives 
were disgraced with hideous crimes. They should 
have exposed them more severely. Cain, you 
should guard youreslf against such prejudicial 
ideas.” 

‘Tndeed, Aunt Nettie, you are a perfect sage! 
I shall place your bit of Oracular Monition in my 
vest-pocket and whenever I find a place to heed it 
no doubt it will be resurrected and its sacredness 
heeded and inspected.” 

'^Lawd, God-er-mighty !” exclaimed Aunt 
Becky, looking at him with an air of one speak- 
ing with authority from Jehovah. ^^You is er 
bomination in the sight er God, you is ! If the 
debbill don’t fry you in hell he mus’ jist ’sign his 
kingdom. Ugh ! I des shuddahs at you black- 
ness.” 


CAIN. 


221 


CHAPTEK XIX. 

Mamie was writing an epic poem on Gustavus, 
confinement at Copenhagen and his escape to the 
Delecarlian Mountains, when Mr. Cain came into 
the library, and before she knew it he was holding 
the incompleted poem with his own hand and 
smiling derisively down upon its author. She 
fiushed and her eyes fell under the power of his 
intelligent eyes. But without a word he read 
what she had written, then passed from the room. 
Mamie looked after him in consternation. And 
for several minutes after he had gone she medi- 
tated over the strangeness of his actions. A crit- 
ic^s eye had inspected her poem even before it was 
finished. What did he think about it? She felt 
that she would rather have his approval than all 
the world of critics together. But she whispered 
^‘Why?” to her pleading heart. She looked over 
her work again, more rigidly criticising it than 
ever before. She wondered if he discovered any 
mistakes. She could find none. At last she put 
away the ink and locked her manuscript in the 
drawer and came into the drawing-room where 
Mrs. Harwell, Lilian and Mr. Cain were engaged 
in a lively conversation. Only a brief second she 
saw the flash of his eyes which instantly were 
averted to Mrs. Harwell, to whom he spoke. 

‘‘Well, well. Aunt Nettie,'" said he, as he ob- 


222 


CAIN. 


served the beauty of the indignant frown on Mrs. 
Harwell’s face, ^^your face reminds me of what 
Lancelot said of the Lady of Shalott when he 
said, ^She has a lovely face; God in His mercy 
lend her grace.’ ” 

“Well, Cain, I cannot honor you with so notable 
an epithet. I can’t say that you remind me of Sir 
Lancelot, for you are deficient of the courtesy and 
royal knightliness that marked his graces. 

“But I was speaking of the moral and religious 
infiuences these great poets — Tennyson, Milton, 
Watts, Pope, Shakespeare, Longfellow, etc. — exert 
over the reading and thinking world. They teach 
us of our duty here and of a wonderful promise 
of a hereafter.” 

“Ah, yes. Aunt Nettie, there is a fiiere,’ but oh 
the hopelessness of a ^hereafter !’ How can one 
trust in such a promise when there is no existing 
good to insure an hereafter? The term eternity 
suggests the pre-existence of some good, and we 
know there is nothing, no, not one thing good in 
this world.” 

“But, Cain, you are unreasonable. The world 
is not so corrupt but that good claims its rank 
in its file. 

‘**0 yet we trust that somehow good 
Will he the final goal of ill; 

To pangs of nature, sins of ill 
Defects of doubt, and taints of blood; 

That nothing vmllcs with aimless feet. 

That not one life shall he destroyed. 

Or cast as rubbish to the void, 

When God hath made the file complete.* 


CAIN, 


223 


''Cain, there is as much good in the world as 
there ever was, and there will always be.’^ 

“It is passing strange,” he said in a sneering 
tone, “how rational minds can be captivated with 
the fanatical enthusiasm which they imbibe from 
the pages of these ancients’ frail tapestry on which 
is only a prodigious display of pedantry and eru- 
dition and no common sense. 

“I am blissfully indignant just now over the 
wild enthusiasm among authors to write epic 
poetry on some strange legendary deity or myth 
about which they have not the least accurate con- 
ception as to what occurred just at that dark, 
dreamy age or anything obtained from history.” 

Mamie flushed but kept her eyes on the silken 
tassel of her fan, which she toyed in her fingers. 
She felt the staring gaze of Mr. Cain’s magnetic 
eyes looking through the very mirror of her soul. 

“And it is exceedingly astonishing to me that 
you, so indignant, so inflexibly poised upon your 
pinnacle of self-conceit and superiority would 
condescend to molest these authors whom you see 
fit to deride just now. But, nevertheless, I bliss- 
fully ignore your words of repugnance and em- 
phatically declare with absolute authenticity that 
those ancient poets were inspired from noble im- 
pulses to pen their masterpieces to their race. I 
don’t say that they were specially divinely inspired 
but God is the origin of every merit of good under 
the sun.” 

“Tut, tut! Aunt Nettie, your fanaticism bores 
me ! That God you speak of had nothing to do 
with it. Man is possessed of an inflexible will and 
executes that will regardless of any external 


224 


CAIN. 


power. Disraeli, the late Lord Beaconsfield, says 
that ‘Man can be what he pleases,’ and I hold to 
that faith.” 

There was a long pause, at last broken by Mrs. 
Harwell. 

“Cain, doubtless you will be surprised when 1 
tell you that I received a letter from Mirable Irv- 
ing yesterday afternoon stating that she would 
impose herself as our guest for a short while. She 
will be here some time to-day.” 

“Great J ehovah !” he exclaimed, “that pre- 
sumptuous female again. Our guest, indeed ! 
Well, Auntie, you must summon all your hos- 
pitality and bring to bear all your affected gen- 
erosity, for you must prepare to be both host and 
hostess. I cannot — I will not be infected with 
her intolerable presence! Just now I feel that an 
order from the vindictive woman, Madame de 
Pompadour, to put me in prison and receive the 
doom of the famous La Tude, would be much 
more agreeable than to hear of her abominable 
intrusions here.” 

Mrs. Harwell laughed heartily, but said noth- 
ing. At length she asked him : “What do you 
think of that new volume of ‘Orthodox Lectures’ 
by Leland Burnett, which I noticed you had been 
reading for the first time, and have left open in 
the library?” 

“I just merely scanned the index and subject 
contents. If I had known such a volume had 
polluted the sanctity of my library all this while 
I would have relegated it to a securely sealed Pan- 
dora box as one of its most depraved misfortunes.” 

“And you read more than the contents, too, Mr. 


CAIN. 


225 


Cain/’ put in Lilian, I heard 5^ou use one of 
the phrases contained in that book. Just before 
my governess entered you said to Mrs. Harwell 
that to an infidel a Christian was an object of 
amusement — whose religious proclivities shrouded 
him like the copious filamentous appendage of 
the Himalayan yak’s — no beauty about them.” 

“Why, child !” he said in a kind of apologetic 
tone, “your innocency reminds me of the fabled 
Norwegian maid, Thelma, who inherently and 
naturally abhorred all forms of dissimulation. 
You carelessly and unmercifully expose my ap- 
parent deception. I beg pardon, I do remember, 
now, of reading that extract. In fact, I have read 
it all, — w'hen the different productions were first 
published, one every week in the M maga- 

zine. I recall several passages therein contained; 
one, especially, w’hich excited my repugnance more 
bitterly against this obnoxious Christian Ortho- 
doxy. It was his quotation from Renan, who, in 
speaking of Jesus of Nazareth, said: ‘Jesus shall 
become the corner-stone of humanity, so entirely 
that to tear his name from the world would be to 
rend it to its foundations.’ Now such odious af- 
firmations are enough to disgust a pure, refined 
intellect.” 

At this juncture and at the bold statement Ma- 
mie looked up at Mr. Cain, blazing an indignant 
look into his face. 

“Mr. Cain,” she said in an angry voice some- 
what tremulous because of restraint, “I feel that 
it would be moral cowardice on my part to make 
no defense against such offensive statements. 

“The religion of Jesus of Nazareth is the great 


5126 


CAIN. 


pre-eminent cause of all ages. It has survived 
the criticism of ever agnostic, every infidel, every 
skeptic that ever rebelled or instigated insurrec- 
tion against it; and to-day, after eighteen cen- 
turies have passed away, it stands authentically 
and unmistakably the strongest incentive to m.or- 
ality of human actions that the world has ever wit- 
nessed. Even the strongest agents of unbelief are 
compelled by candor to admit that no other char- 
acter in history has held the world under his 
power like Jesus Christ. I recall to your memory 
the words of Lecky, by no means a believer inn 
Jesus or his religion. He says: Jt was reserved 
for Christianity to present to the world an ideal 
character which, through all the changes of eight- 
een centuries, has inspired the hearts of men 
with an impassioned love; has shown itself capa- 
ble of acting on all ages, nations, temperaments 
and conditions ; has been not only the highest pat- 
tern of virtue, but the strongest incentive to its 
practice; and has exercised so deep an influence 
that it may be truly said that the simplest record 
of three short years of active life has done more 
to regenerate and to soften mankind than all the 
disquisitions of philosophers and all the exhorta- 
tions of moralists.’ ” 

am to infer that you are well up on critical 
literature and especially historical literature,” 
said Mr. Cain testily. ^^You refer me to the testi- 
mony of my fellow-freethinkers. Then doubtless 
it would be consistent to recall to your memory 
the language of that Eoman author, Tacitus, who 
said that ^Hero, to get rid of the rumor (that he 
was responsible for the nine-days’ conflagration 


CAIN. 


227 


of Eome), substituted as the criminals, and pun- 
ished with the most exquisite torture, those per- 
sons, odious to shameful practices, whom the vul- 
gar called Christians. Christ, the author of that 
name, was punished by the procurator, Pontius 
Pilate, in the reign of Tiberius ; the deadly super- 
stition, repressed for a while, broke out again, not 
only through Judea, the original seat of the evil, 
but through the city also, whither from every side 
all things horrible or shameful flow together and 
come into vogue.^ 

“You perceive he terms it a 'deadly supersti- 
tion’ and an 'evil.’ ” 

“Mr. Cain, I know that Tacitus, Suetonius, and 
Pliny, merely give Jesus and his religion a passing 
notice because of its little importance to them; 
that Strauss declared that the alleged facts of the 
gospel possessed no historical value whatever; but 
were simply traditions, myths and fables. But I 
can truthfully say that that Jesus whom they in 
vain try to denounce brought with Him and left 
the powers of a mighty revolution which no other 
man has or ever had the honor or power of propa- 
gating. Oh, Mr. Cain, hear me when I say that 
we all, every obstinate infldel, every proud agnos- 
tic, and every cynical skeptic and all will be com- 
pelled to exclaim with Jean Paul Richter that 
Jesus lifted with his pierced hands empires off 
their hinges, and turned the streams of centuries 
from their channels, and still governs the ages.” 

“Now be reasonable, Mamie. Aside from all 
these rash statements from these partially skepti- 
cal characters, there is another more consistent 
view to the futility of this odious religion. Take 


228 


CAIN. 


science to throw down or destroy, or even compre' 
inconsistency of the Word. It is based on reason 
and of course the rational mind is bound to accept 
it; and if it contradicts the teachings of the Bible 
why then the volume is false. Science teaches that 
some of the miracles recorded in the Bible are 
contrary to the laws of Nature and scientific 
truth. For instance, the restoration of the with- 
ered hand was a mythical, fabulous idea. It is 
preposterous to think that the dead limbs could be 
reanimated and the body invigorated to life com- 
pletely.’^ 

^^Good ! Mr. Cain, I am pleased to discuss this 
subject on the terms you propose. If you will re- 
member there was a spiritual miracle in the case 
of the palsied man. Jesus had power to forgive 
the wretch’s sins. So I draw upon the source of 
your ^rational reasoning,’ and ask you to think. 
A spiritual miracle, the giving of moral and spir- 
itual light to sinful souls, is beyond the power of 
science to throw down or destroy, or even compre- 
hend. It is a prerogative in the realms of which 
science can never intrude. 

^^Can you, 0 Scientist, yielding to the powers 
of death and seeing a loved one snatched away 
from you forever, stand by that grave and refuse 
to weep because science has taught you not to 
weep ?” 

Mamie saw his face grow livid and a look of 
despair came over his countenance. But just then 
they were surprised by the presence of Mirable 
Irving standing in the doorway, smiling sweetly 
but pensively. 

“Well, well. Miss Irving!” exclaimed Mrs. Har- 


CAIN. 229 

well with a sweet laugh, “we hardly expected you 
60 soon.” 

“Then I have succeeded in surprising you all ?” 
was the pleasant answer. “And myself as well, 
for I had no idea I should meet my old friend 
Mamie Homean here !” 

“Why, Miss Irving, you have changed so aston- 
ishingly since I saw you last.” 

“Very likely I have. You know how great 
causes effect great changes.” 

After the inevitable prologue of feminine ca- 
ressing and embracing, Mrs. Harwell conducted 
her to her room. 

After they were gone, Mr. Cain chuckled to 
himself. “Well, I think her manners are rather 
rude,” he said with a sneer. “She might have 
sent in her card, then her intrusion would hgive 
been somewhat modified. I suppose she will be 
back here in a few moments, so I had better pre- 
pare to abscond to the soothing solitude of the 
dreary Urals. She did not recognize me here a 
while ago — lucky ! I must go to my gloomy rooms 
for a while.” And with a lazy walk he strode from 
the room. 

After a short while Mrs. Harwell returned with 
her guest. They engaged in such gossip as grati- 
fies feminine felicity. Mamie, for some reason, 
was somewhat reserved, listening to Mrs. Harwell 
entertain their guest. She scrutinized Mirable 
Irving with the intentness of a skilled physiogno- 
mist. She observed that the woman glanced fre- 
quently and anxiously toward the door, as if look- 
ing for some one’s coming. She had already 
made one inquiry for Mr. Cain, and it occurred to 


230 


CAIN. 


Mamie that this woman was anxious to see him. 

Mamie blushed as she suddenly realized that 
she was becoming jealous, and she busied herself 
with an envelope which she toyed in her fingers, 
keeping her eyes downcast. 

Mrs. Harwell was embarrassed at the rudeness 
of her nephew’s sneaking away from Miss Irving’s 
society, and she waited anxiously all the afternoon 
for his return. They had not seen him since he 
left before noon. He did not return for supper, 
and it was dark when the clear chime of his wheel- 
bell announced his return. 

There was a faint smile on Mirable Irving’s 
face, and Mamie sighed quickly and bit her lip 
as they both saw the light on his wheel which he 
pushed by his side along the smooth walk-way. 
After a few moments Mr. Cain stood in the door- 
way, and as he entered Miss Irving rose to meet 
him. He took her hand, shook it tenderly, and 
said as he released it: ^As I look at you. Miss 
Irving, I am immediately reminded of a certain 
nun whom I was pleased to admire in Paris a few 
years ago. Your face is the very personification 
of resignation, so calm, so patient, touched with 
a faint betrayal of anxiety. But in the main you 
are the same Mirable Irving cap-a-pie/* 

^^Well, Mr. Cain, I fear you have done me an 
injustice by having discovered new features in my 
personal appearance. That is natural and should 
he expected and observed without comment. Time, 
you Imow, changes all things. You are looking 
well now, Mr. Cain.” 

^^Thanks. I wish I could reciprocate with you, 
although you are looking as well as you were when 


CAIN. 231 

I saw you last in the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in 
New York/^ 

‘Air. Cain, you are to be pitied — but I will not 
prosecute the argument further. But pray how 
do you find the feminine realm away here com- 
pared to those in the great cities 

“To my great satisfaction, I found that my ver- 
dict once passed upon that sex as incredulous 
things was wise and true prophecy. I have found 
a great number of characters whose dissim- 
ulations have furnished my revengeful heart with 
sufficient proof to vindicate my just aversion for 
the treacherous sex.” 

He stood on the rug by the piano, and leaning 
his elbow against it he twisted the silken tassels 
that draped the magnificent instrument, and he 
continued: “I have enjoyed the highest concep- 
tion of human felicity since I have been here, 
watching the dexterity and the amusing maneu- 
vers of women. There are many Penelopes here 
who exemplify the fabled Penelope who turned off 
her numerous suitors with the promise that she 
would hear them when she finished a piece of 
knitting, which she unraveled at night to knit 
again the following day. Ah, the deception of the 
treacherous sex !” 

“Ah, Mr. Cain,” and she laughed, “I know the 
cure for your perpetual chronic mania. You just 
need to wash your hands in innocency of all per- 
petration of evil against the gentler sex and fall 
into the arms of some sweet Rachel like Jacob 
did and say, T surrender all/ 


232 


CAIN. 


" '0 a Jciss — long as my exile. 

Sweet as my revenge/ " 

Mrs. Harwell laughed heartly, and a smile 
ed mischievously on Mamie’s and Lilian’s 



.ips. 


Cain was embarrassed somewhat, but soon re- 
covered and said: 

^^May the eternals forbid that I shall ever be- 
come so credulous as to fall into such a de- 
lirium.” 

Mamie rose and went to the library, where she 
engaged the while in looking over her work and 
looking up references for another poem. 

After some time socially spent in the parlor, the 
household repaired to their respective rooms and 
soon all was perfect quietude. But Mamie toiled 
on with eyes weariless and energy roused to ex- 
treme enthusiasm till the deep, lonely hour of 
midnight. She was bent with eyes filled with 
tears over a volume of Mr. Burnett’s work on 
^'Religious Ethics,” and sadly thinking of his 
early life of Christian piety and its end in a 
strange gambler’s grave and a doom of perdition 
hanging over that tomb, when she heard a knock 
at the door. ^^Come in,” she said gently, and Mr. 
Cain stepped into the library. Mamie looked up 
at him through tears and smiled sadly. 

'‘"Oh, Miss Homean/' he said, noticing that she 
had been weeping, did not mean to intrude so 
offensively. I only wanted to procure my maps 
and chart and survey a route to the North Pole 
and ascertain the proper and most congenial sea- 
son to undertake the search. I think I shall be off 


CAIN. 


233 


for Cape Brainerd, Grinnell Land, ere the hot sea' 
son is over. Just now I feel that the solitudes of 
Greely Fiord would hide me in its icy arms and 
soothe me to sleep with its dreary lullabys and 
chilling kisses from its frozen lips and that peace 
would at last be found there; for I think 1 have 
thoroughly sought the world over for peace and 
yet I have not beheld a semblance of it anywhere 
else.” 

He turned his keen dark gray eyes upon her as 
if to observe the effect of his language. He smiled 
a chilling smile, for he read in her eyes the words 
that pleaded for him to stay yet a little longer. 
But he was vexed because those beautiful proud 
lips would never confess it; and he sighed briefly 
and caught his fluttering underlip in his teeth. 
He stooped near her, and turning the pages of 
the book she had been reading till he found the 
author’s name, he asked, pointing his Anger to the 
name: 

“You once loved that man, did you not?” His 
voice was a sweet, tender whisper, and she felt his 
warm breath upon her cheek. 

She tried to suppress her words, but in spite of 
her efforts she confessed in a strange, dreamy 
whisper: “I once loved him; I love him yet, and 
I shall always love him !” 

He groaned, and grasped her hand till it 
ached. His lips blanched, and a strange pallor 
crept over his face. After a moment’s pause he 
released her hand and dropped wearily into a 
chair. He buried his face in his hands and was 
lost in habitual, gloomy, desolate oblivion. It was 
just a while before day when he roused himself 


234 


CAIN. 


and went ont to quiet his fierce dog, that was 
howling and barking furiously as if there were an 
intruder somewhere near by. Mamie had retired 
some time before that, but she was tossing wake- 
fully on her pillow, hoping, praying and weeping. 

When Mr. Cain had quieted his angry dog and 
it stood cowering at his feet afraid of his lashes 
and threats and cursing, he saw a man hurriedly 
approach him across the lawn. The moon was 
shining bright, and Mr. Cain at once recognized 
the quick uncertain step of Alton Tolliver. He 
was considerably drawn over from the wound and 
the bullet which was infiicted there on that fatal 
night when Leland Burnett sent the whizzing 
bullet crashing through his side. 

Mamie saw them from her window, and her 
heart stood still when she saw the man Tolliver 
approach Mr. Cain with a shining weapon in his 
hand. 

^^0, Cain, you villain!’’ cried Tolliver, in deep, 
husky, fearful tones. ‘^Your doom is come. Oh, 
give me back my loved one, my precious darling 
Mamie. I will take her with me, or I will take 
your life !” 

Mr. Cain gazed at him with awful, fearless 
eyes and grim visage. He stepped back ten steps 
and stood erect against his great mansion and 
squared his breast. 

^'Shoot me, thou hideous enemy of immortal 
souls !” he cried eagerly. ^^Oh, I had not dared 
to hope for so sweet a death as would come at your 
bloody, murderous hands! Your insatiably vin- 
dictive heart these many long years thirsted after 


CAIN. 235 

my blood; now, it shall be gratified. Shoot! I 
am ready to die 

Alton leveled the weapon upon his enemy. 
There was a moment of silence ; death had hushed 
everything; then there was rustling of a skirt, a 
quick soft tread of hurrying feet upon the gravel, 
and in an instant Mamie stood like a daring 
heroine between her king and his enemy. Her 
face was calm, resigned, fixed, and white as it ap- 
peared serenely defiant in the soft moonlight. 
Just then she recognized the desperate man, and 
with a gesture of horror she screamed: ‘^Oh, 
Alton, for God’s sake, don’t!” 

There was a loud crash — a blaze — then the 
smoke cleared away and the dull echo died away 
in the hollows and cliffs. He had fired a truce in 
the air, and when the smoke had cleared away he 
drew nearer to Mamie as if to ascertain her iden- 
tity, then he threw up his hands and cried: 

“My God ! Oh, Mamie, you have forsaken me !” 

He moved slowly backward till he had retreated 
from their sight, saying as he went : 

“Love is a curse, Life is a mockery ! 0 God, 

where is thy justice !” 

Mamie and Mr. Cain gazed at each other for 
some minutes without uttering a word, then Cain 
seized her hand and with tears in his eyes and a 
faltering voice he asked : 

“Mamie, tell me why you interceded for me.” 

^^ecause you looked so much” — she would not 
say. 

He longed to clasp her to his heart and tell her 
of his great love — a love born of purest eternities, 


236 


CAIN. 


but he only lifted the soft white trembling hand 
to his lips and released it. 

In an instant he was gone. She stood there as 
if waiting for her heart to resume its beating, for 
it seemed to have stopped. She was trembling and 
crying passionately. At length she took a seat in 
the large willow chair under the shade-tree and 
there she gave herself up to love’s purest dreams. 
She was there when morning broke, and before 
she knew it Mr. Cain was standing before her. 
His face was grim, and the habitual scowl rested 
there. It was not the tender passionate face that 
looked at her in the moonlight, nor were those cold 
scornfully curled lips the tender lips that touched 
love upon her hand. 

^‘Has Morpheus at last awakened her slumbering 
somnipathist ?” he said as she looked up at him as 
if just awakened from a sleep. 

^^Goood morning, Mr. Cain.” 

"Good morning. Miss Homean. Let me escort 
3^ou into the house. Breakfast will soon be ready, 
I hope.” 

He offered her his arm, but she evaded him, and 
before he was hardly aware of it she had flitted 
past him and was hurrying into the house. He 
looked after her somewhat dismayed, then laughed 
as one in triumph. Lighting his cigar he went 
to his stables, hitched up his favorite horse to 
the buggy and drove away. 

All day long Mamie looked and waited for his 
return. She walked about uneasily from door to 
door looking for his return, but to her disappoint- 
ment she was compelled to continue in her watch. 
She went out among the flowers to while the time 


CAIN. 


237 


away, but even there she was anxious. Why was 
it that she looked and longed for the wicked mas- 
ter of ‘‘Gethsemane Why had she spent so 
many wakeful nights thinking of him? 

That night about nine o’clock Mamie was in the 
library, deeply engrossed in her studies, when to 
her surprise Mr. Cain came suddenly in. 

‘‘Mamie, will you tell Sanford to take this let- 
ter to the postoffice early in the morning? I wish 
it to go on the 6 :30 train, and as I shall not be 
here then, I trust that you will see that it goes 
off in due time. Pray do not ever allude to the 
letter to any one; it is a matter of profound se- 
crecy to me.” 

As he handed it to her he affected a mistrust- 
ing look at her. 

“Mr. Cain, I shall deliver the letter myself, as 
I am going very early to the village, and I assure 
you now that you may dismiss all apprehensions 
of my disclosing to publicity your affairs which, 
indeed, do not concern or interest me in the least. 
You should not have troubled me with the safety 
of your secret affairs if you doubt me. Here is 
your letter.” 

He grasped her hand and pressed it so tightly 
that she was almost ready to scream from pain. 
The cold, icy stare of his eyes vanished and a 
passionate appeal leaped into their languid depths. 

“Oh, Mamie, if you could only trust me as im- 
plicitly as I have you I think I should not be so 
ill, so wretched, so desolate ! Your pure, guileless 
spirit righteously abhors the blackness and treach- 
erousness of mine. Oh, Mamie, darling, once my 
soul was as pure as yours, but the awful flames of 


238 


CAIN. 


vice into which it plunged scorched and blackened 
and burned it till their remains nothing but the 
ruins and ashes where it perished. Oh, if I could 
only shut out the vision that haunts me and in my 
dreams goads me to frenzy. Oh, it is a vision that 
haunts me like demons glittering in the bloody 
depths of murder ! It is too late to hope now. I 
am everlastingly doomed. I cannot retrace the 
wayward footsteps. I have fallen and my wistful 
soul looks upward, but it cannot rise. 

“But Petronius laughed at his voluptuous feast 
and was happy even while the life-blood flowed 
from his arm and death was coming to gather him 
into his folds. And why not I be happy while I 
may ?” 

He stroked his soft black beard and laughed a 
short mirthless laugh that made Mamie shudder 
and step back. 

“Nero shivered his goblets, drank his delicious 
wines, shivered his crystal goblets and scanned the 
scenes of revelry with his emerald and he was 
happy. He even quaffed his spicy wines unto 
drunkenness, but he never uttered that cowardly 
revengeful regret that ^Wine is a mocker and 
strong drink is raging.^ He accepted the events 
of the hour.” 

“Mr. Cain, you are dishonorable ! Why can 
you afford to be so disrespectful to me as to make 
a mockery of the cause for which I am strug- 
gling?” 

“Oh, darling, some day you will know — oh, you 
will know me then.” 

He pressed her hands more tightly in his and 
the mournful melody of his voice touched the 


CAIN 


239 


tenderest chords of her heart and set them to 
vibrating a melancholy strain of saddest refrain. 
She remembered one other precious one who 
held her hand and told her so tenderly that she 
would know him some day. And, oh, how like his 
were the words of this strange lover ! 

^^Mamie, some day you will regret that rash as- 
sertion that I am dishonorable. Good-by 

He stooped to ignite a match on the heel of his 
shoe to light his cigar, and Mamie passed out of 
the room. As the door closed behind her he 
laughed bitterly and repeated in a low meditative 
tone as he slowly walked back and forth through 
the room: 

^'Fill the bright goblets. 

Spread the festal board! 

Summon the gay, the noble and the fair! 

Through the loud hall in joyous concert poured 
Let mirth and music sound the dirge of care! 
But ash thou if happiness be there. 

If the loud laugh disguise convulsive throe. 

Or if the brow the heart's true livery wear; 
Lift not the festal mash! Enough to hnow 
No scene of mortal life but teems with mortal 
woe." 

“Ah, how true,’’ he said huskily. “No scene of 
mortal life but teems with mortal woe.” 


240 


CAIN. 


CHAPTER XX. 

There was a great stir among the gossipers; a 
clamorous mob of invading inquisitions tormented 
the more peaceable to a worrisome degree. It was 
all about the great dedication of the Ariadne Tem- 
ple. At last the day arrived when the important 
service must be had. 

Since the arrival of the beautiful Mamie Ho- 
mean in that “Lonely Vicinity” religion had 
made wonderful progress. Mamie rose fast to a 
glorious reputation, and the news of her wonderful 
religious talent spread far and wide. She was 
destined to be a great Evangelist. Every pros- 
pect for her was promising. God had at last 
blessed her efforts and permitted her to see the 
fruits of her labor. It was to her that the tribute 
of praise should be lauded, for she was the angel 
that God had sent to help the poor people of 
“Lonely Vicinity.” 

On this beautiful Sabbath morning Mamie was 
walking down through the shadowy valley alone 
on her way to the Temple to her Sunday-school, 
which was to precede the dedication service. She 
was glad, supremely happy, and she was thankful 
that she had again enjoyed the re-establishment 
of her good name. She remembered her child- 


CAIN. 


241 


hood prayers, the blessed answers God had whis- 
pered in her childish heart, and she now heard 
again as she then did the sweet answer and its 
fulfilled promise: ^‘Thou hast been faithful over 
a few things; I will make thee ruler over many/’ 
As she walked along once more the prophetic ex- 
clamation broke upon her lips as it did in child- 
hood: 

“How beautiful are the feet of him that bring- 
eth good tidings, that publisheth peace; . 
that saith unto Zion, Thy God reigneth!” 

She felt that she had brought good tidings and 
had established peace there. She had, with great 
religious enthusiasm, declared Zion’s God reign- 
eth, and she fancied that she could hear the 
prophetic promise of God saying: 

“Behold my servant shall deal prudently, he 
shall be exalted and extolled, and be very high.” 

The venerable Bishop had arrived, and the vast 
congregation had assembled. 

As the aged preacher passed slowly up the aisle 
a sweet strain of music floated down to meet him. 

Lilian sat at the great chapel organ and Mamie 
stood by her with her wonderful violin. As the 
joyous welcome refrain rippled from under the 
graceful sweep of Mamie’s bow and joined its 
harmony with the rapturous music of the organ, 
Mamie’s voice rang sweet and clear, like the echo 
of an enchantress singing a welcome to some 
charmed object under its power. Mamie looked 
up as the old man approached and suddenly her 
voice faltered and her bow waned. But she soon 
regained herself and the grand music went on. 

Another form came slowly up the aisle in the 


242 


CAIN. 


person of Mr. Cain, and he smiled as he caught 
the yearning passionate gaze of Mamie Homean. 
As the last note died away he stepped in and took 
his long unoccupied pew. His face was firm and 
his carriage graceful. A w^hispering stir went 
from lip to lip in comment upon his unusual pres- 
ence. 

The grave old minister sat in the altar chair 
with his Bible in his hand and his face became 
serene as he turned the leaves of the sacred vol- 
ume. At last he rose, and stood by the shining 
marble pulpit and looked over a vast multitude 
which crowded the gallery to its fullest capacity 
and filled the doors. There was perfect silence as he 
surveyed the great human vortex like one grand 
supreme master observing a scene of paradise. 

Then he turned his eyes to the sacred page, 
from which he read the dedication sermon text: 

^^Death is swallowed up in victory,’^ for ‘Ve 
that are in this tabernacle do groan, being bur- 
dened; not for that we would be unclothed, but 
clothed upon, that mortality might be swallowed 
up of life.’' 

The sermon was solemn and eloquent, full of a 
wonderful Christian zeal and spiritual power. In 
grandest figures of eloquence he preached the cer- 
tainty of immortality and the redemption through 
the atoning blood of our Lord and Saviour Jesus 
Christ. Mr. Cain sat all the while with his head 
bowed on his hand, but the wonderful message 
from the man of God sank deep into the dreary 
depths of his wretched heart. 

At last the services were completed and the 
congregation dispersed. 


CAIN. 


243 


But down in the pretty cool valley between the 
Temple and ^^Gethsemane’^ Mamie waited and 
watched. She was crying like a broken-hearted 
child. 

She did not wait long till she looked up to see 
the good dedicating minister bending over her and 
smiling with great tears streaming over his face. 
Mamie rose and stood before him. He extended 
his arm pleadingly toward, and cried: 

^‘Mamie, my precious foster-child 

^^Oh, father ! father ! do you know me at last 

She glided into his outstretched arms, and there 
the long-lost foster-father, Koscoe Homean, 
strained his precious darling to his heart. 

They were too happy to speak, and there they 
remained for several moments in silence locked in 
each other’s loving embrace. When at last they 
released each other they rested under the shade 
of a great spreading oak. There they talked over 
the good old days spent at their old home in peace 
before the cloud of desolation settled over it. 
There they talked, and laughed and wept, now 
happy, now sad, as they recalled the long gone 
past. They had for some reason avoided speaking 
of Leland, and Mamie wondered why. She sat for 
some time after they had paused a while thinking, 
aye, even hoping that Mr. Homean could tell 
her something of Leland that she had never heard. 
At length she looked up at him with tearful eyes 
and trembling lips and asked in a strange voice: 
^^Father, can you tell me about Leland?” 

He burst into tears, and caught his child in his 
arms and whispered: 

^‘Hush, hush, darling! I cannot tell you now. 


244 


CAIN. 


Some day I can tell you all ! I must go away 
now. O child, do not plead for me to stay, for 
I cannot. I must go away! I am under an as- 
sumed name. Bishop Harvey Weeks. And some 
day I will come back to you and claim you as my 
child again. I will write to you. Good-by, Ma- 
mie.” 

^^Oh, father, how can I tell you good-by !” 

The weeping minister folded her in his arms 
and his silver locks mingled with her beautiful 
brown hair while he breathed a solemn blessing 
for her. She sobbed more passionately as he 
touched his lips to hers and gently put her from 
him; and turning he hurried away, fearing to 
linger around the painful scene lest he be tempted 
to stay with the child he loved so well — the only 
earthly tie he could claim on earth. — 

Mamie looked after him and cried out in an- 
guish, wringing her hands as one in extreme de- 
spair. She was tempted to flee after him. At 
last he disappeared in the forest, and she turned 
turned toward ‘^Gethsemane.” 

The days were lovely about "Gethsemane.” 
Nothing of interest occurred for several weeks. 

The days of September were gradually drawing 
out the curtains and shadows of night to cover 
the extremities of the day, and the sun moved the 
shorter way across the universe. The myriads of 
tiny congelations had turned the forest into a glar- 
ing canvas of crimson and yellow, and had drawn 
their plastic virtue over plains and meadows, 
giving them their winter robes. 

Day after day Mr. Cain roamed the great for- 
est wilderness in search of the game which it 


CAIN. 


245 


amply furnished; or he would spend hours in his 
private library poring over ancient mythology or 
some volume of traditional lore. Everything 
moved on in peace and dull quietude. In passing 
each other or on meeting at the morning meal 
Mr. Cain and the governess merely bowed de- 
murely to each other in salutation or greeting. 
His manner was haughty and noticeably aristo- 
cratic; Mamie’s manner was pleasant, agreeable, 
yet sufficiently commanding and defiant. 

But there is no scene of quietude but ends in 
some new experiences and exciting casualties. 

It was one beautiful moonlight night of the 
last week in September when Lilian and Mr. Cain 
played an interesting game of billiards and spent 
their last night of pleasure together under the 
cryptical veil of nom de plume. 

They laughed merrily as the hours glided away. 
When their balls would clash the echo would 
hardly return when an explosion of triumphant 
laughter burst from the lips of the luckier game- 
ster. 

Mamie Homean sat in the library pretending to 
read, but her eyes very often wandered into the 
rotunda where the happy couple spent their leis- 
ure hours under the brilliant effulgence of the 
magnificent chandeliers. Mr. Cain’s quick peals 
of laughter touched her heart, and every word 
from his lips was to her a sound of music from a 
far-away celestial realm. 

But, oh, how she utterly despised his sinful 
nature! How completely detestable was his terri- 
ble depraved life to her. The fact that he had 
entertained such bitter aversion for her sex stirred 


246 


CAIN. 


up in her heart latent contempt and loathing for 
him. She even ridiculed and derided her own 
weak nature for having accepted the challenge of 
his magnetic power. But though she mocked 
herself thus she was bound to admit to her plead- 
ing heart that his charming person possessed some 
wonderful infatuation against which it was use- 
less for the captivated heart to rebel. 

At length the game was ended and all repaired 
to their respective chambers. About midnight 
Mamie grew weary of her restless wakefulness 
and getting up she took a seat in an easy arm- 
chair by her open window, where she leaned her 
head against the window-sill and looked over the 
beautiful valley as it swam in floods of moonlight. 
While she sat there her memory stumbled over 
every barrier of her life. Many reminiscences 
flooded her memory, and she wept there in the 
silence as one who had lost hope of ever enjoying 
life again. Now and then she would brush the 
tears away, and a sad smile would creep over her 
pale, care-worn but lovely features as she indulged 
a happy love-dream of Mr. Cain. 

Oh, how completely his life, his happiness, his 
love, was interwoven into the sentiments and pas- 
sions of her yearning, bleeding heart. Her every 
thought was of him. She spent many sleepless 
nights weeping, praying and hoping for him. 

Oh, how true, how beautifully sweet, and how 
eternally loyal and devotedly passionate is the 
love of a pure sweet woman ! Such love has ruled 
the world ever since the age of chivalry dawned, 
and shall reign supremely the princess of all ages 
to come. Aside from the divine love of God 


CAIN. 


247 


it is the unconquerable power of mankind to-day 
and shall reign in eternity second only to God’s 
love. 

How many broken-hearted, sweet-spirited 
women like Mamie Homean have nursed their 
eternal weight of sorrows by an open window 
looking hopelessly out through the stillness of 
night upon a dreary friendless world? Ah, Eter- 
nity alone knows that great secret. 

Soon her career as an occupant of ‘^Gethsemane” 
and as governess would soon be ended and she 
must try the realities of a heathen world. She 
must venture out upon the strange unknown wa- 
ters of an untried sea. There was no remorse or 
regret in her heart to-night, yet sadness lingered 
there. 

The fruitful fields of her earnest labor were 
dipped in the depths of life’s benedictive dews 
and the serene calm of a satisfied soul lingered 
in her bosom. But now only a few more days 
and she must leave the home and the people she 
had learned to love so well. As she sat there in 
the wonderful silence she thought of a letter 
which she had received just before supper. She 
took it from the little table, broke the seal, and 
read it by the moonlight. It was a letter from 
a member of the “Woman’s Foreign Mission 
Society,” stating that if she desired to stay at her 
home till Christmas holidays were over they cor- 
dially granted her the privilege and would be 
glad for her to come as early as possible there- 
after. 

She gladly accepted the privilege. She put the 
draping window curtains back to admit more 


248 


CAIN. 


freely the perfume-laden breezes which had 
loitered among the fragrant flowers and dallied 
amorously with the pliant foliage of the great 
forest. From her position she could see the mag- 
niflcent campanile of the wonderful Temple as it 
stood out against the midnight skies. She looked 
up into the ethereal depths to see the myriad host 
of lovely stars. Each one climbed the cold dim 
solitudes of space and twinkled as if proud of its 
existence. 

While she sat beholding the silent sentinels of 
the universe she heard the soft tramp of some 
one walking in the corridor below. She heard 
the door close and some one step out upon the 
smooth concrete walk-way. It was Cain. He 
pushed his bicycle slowly along, stopping now and 
then as if to contemplate the necessity of his 
going. He paused beneath her window, and as he 
pushed his hat back from his glossy hair she saw 
a terrible death-like pallor overmasking his face. 
She wrung her hands in anguish and stifled a cry 
as she looked upon her king, and wept silently. 

She heard him mutter in a low, melancholy 
tone : ^Tt is flnished ! It is flnished ! I must 
say good-by forever to my own dear one ! 0 God, 
spare me the awful ordeal !” 

Mamie’s heart bled; she sobbed violently, and 
as she leaned yearningly down to him with her 
hands extended toward him her warm tears fell 
upon his hands and he looked up. He smiled sor- 
rowfully but passionately, and the sweetest smile 
that ever graced the lovely face of a woman was 
Mamie’s response. She saw death written in his 
sad but handsome face and she shuddered as he 


CAIN. 


249 


mounted his wheel and rode away. Death ! Ah, 
verily she thought of Michael Angelo’s last words : 
“Ah, so near to death and yet so far from God !” 
He had said it was finished to-night. He appealed 
to God to spare him the awful ordeal. Could she 
believe herself? Was he really bidding farewell 
to dear old “Gethsemane” ? He said he must bid 
farewell to his loved one. That loved one was 
evidently Lilian. But could she, Mamie Horaean, 
let him go away forever? Indeed, it would be 
better for her to never look into his magnetic eyes 
again. Yes, she would let him go and strangle to 
death that hungering love in her heart for him, 
whom her whole nature and better judgment hated 
most bitterly. Then once more she would be free. 

But, as the passionate appeal called loudly and 
pleadingly to her stubborn conscience, it began 
slowly to yield, and before she was hardly aware 
of her departure she found herself anxiously hur- 
rying down the shadowy valley in eager pursuit 
of the departing mundivagrant. She was sure 
he would stop at his wonderful Temple to behold 
for the last time the solemn import of its gran- 
deur, and she could see him there. She could 
secrete herself somewhere among the shadows of 
the galleries and he should never suspect her pres- 
ence. There she could behold for the last time the 
idol which her heart had proclaimed its king and 
worshipped as its faultless ideal god. Her stub- 
born, sullen conscience would be lenient and 
through pity for the aching, dying heart would, 
for a passing hour, permit it to indulge the 
momentary blissfulness of a farewell look over 
into the promised land, then upturn the sod and 


250 


CAIN. 


bury it in an unknown grave where she might 
never behold the resurrection till the great day 
when all pure sanctified spirits shall come forth 
from their tombs, shake off the sepulchral shroud 
and wing their flight to that beautiful City of 
God. 

The chilly dim light of stars fell upon her 
pathway while the moon crept behind a pearly 
cliff of clouds, and a shuddering sensation made 
her falter on the way. When she reached the 
brow of the little eminence which overlooked the 
magnificent Temple she saw the dull red light 
glaring through the windows of the church re- 
vealing the glories of the pictured glass cathedral 
windows of the mysterious basilica. She paused 
and pressed her hands to her throbbing temples 
and passed her moist fingers across her forehead 
as if some awful pain w^ere there. She gazed long 
and earnestly at the dull red light and shuddered 
at the thought of its significance. It was the 
symbol of a great burning gulf that separated her 
from the object of her worship. Her heart in 
its maddening rage might plunge headlong into 
the burning lake that intervened, but reason re- 
belled against such a possibility. She stood at 
the pretty white gate in front of the main en- 
trance. The door was partly open and through 
it streamed a ribbon of light. She stood in the 
light unaware of the plain view to which she ex- 
posed herself. She waited and listened, but the 
only noise that gave evidence of his being therein 
was a quick smothering cough. How could she 
possibly get in without him knowing of her pres- 
ence? But the hungry heart never exhausts its 


CAIN. 


251 


power of devising plans by which it may attain 
to the extremity of its desires. As if guided by 
some friendly decoying spirit she found herself 
quietly stealing her way through the grand, tall 
arched gallery. Eeluctantly and cautiously but 
with a determination that knows no defeat, she 
entered the vestibule and glided into its shadows. 
She looked cautiously through the open door and 
saw with infinite yearning and wistfulness the 
handsome man whom she so completely and help- 
lessly loved. He was standing by the beautiful 
clouded marble balustrade, with his elbow resting 
upon the chapel organ with his head bowed upon 
his hand, while with the other he slowly turned 
the leaves of the Bible. He paused and lifted a 
keen, glittering dagger from the altar railing and 
looked blandly and frenziedly at it for a moment. 
A keen pang seemed to stab her heart as Mamie 
realized the awful realities of ensuing death. In- 
tuitively she knew that he had come there to 
end his existence forever. She knew that to-night 
in his desperate perdu hopelessness he would stab 
the suicidal weapon through his heart. Ah, she 
knew it, she saw it in his face, she felt it! Oh, 
how her desolate, bleeding heart hoped, pleaded, 
prayed for that poor wretched mortal. If she 
could but reach out her hand and rescue him 
from the inevitable perdition to which he was 
hurrying she would thank God and offer her own 
life instead. She looked pityingly at him and 
thought of that wretched native of Northern 
India who murdered his brother because of jeal- 
ousy. That poor depraved murderer had fled to 
a secret temple hidden in the sequestered groves 


252 


CAIN. 


of a lonely island and was found at last by a mis- 
sionary of the Cross. Also this poor wretch Cain 
had fled to his mysterious Temple and she, an- 
other follower of the Cross, had found him pale 
and emaciated, the very semblance of a victim of 
Heaven’s vengeance. 

Yes, death was his aim. He had bidden fare- 
well to his beloved Lilian back at “Gethsemane,” 
and while she slept sweetly on. her little couch 
that beautiful moonlight night he would end his 
sinful, ruined life there in his beautiful Temple 
where she might come and And her murdered 
lover and behold the blood of his pierced heart 
as it would trickle coldly over the marble altar 
and drip from the point of the fatal dagger. He 
had always declared that ''death was only a leap 
in the dark,” and that it was not a passing from 
time into what he termed a "fabulous eternity.” 
How plainly she could see the blood streaming 
from his pierced side as it did from the pale 
emaciated Christ who hung upon the cruel cross 
that the world might be redeemed. She shud- 
dered at the awful conception. What could she 
do? Could she prevent such an awful catas- 
trophe? Should she be so presumptuous as to 
boldly intercede and presume upon his purpose? 
She felt that she must save him at all cost. Even 
though he mocked at her and pointed her out to 
his own haughty person as an object of derision, 
she must make the attempt. She cheated herself 
into the belief that to rescue him would be an act 
of greatest kindness and supreme benevolence to 
her precious loving friend and protegee. It would 
be a deed of a heroine and not a selflsh design. 


CAIN. 


253 


She possessed herself, adjusted the low lace- 
bordered bodice about her neck, smoothed back 
the glossy waves of hair which were loaded with 
pretty white flowers resting above a beautiful 
crescent, and smoothed the wrinkles out of the 
beautiful pale blue dimity dress which graced her 
lovely figure. 

Just then Mr. Cain seated himself at the organ, 
and lo, a wondrous anthem of pathetic strains 
touched the silence of the night with its strange 
pathos. Somehow a desolate sorrowful spirit 
mingled its sad refrain with the melancholy har- 
mony, and it was the tender refrain that sank 
deep into the sympathetic chambers of Mamie’s 
heart. Ah, well she knew the sad spirit of Mr. 
Cain was mingled in that rare melody. She put 
her little hand tremblingly to her heart and ex- 
tended the other pitifully toward her lover. She 
listened entranced at the music as it wafted 
through the spacious galleries and archways to 
her in that touching song, ^‘In the Sweet By and 
By.^^ 

“0 God !” she murmured with a sob. 

At last the last note died away in the silent 
sanctuary and he rose, turned to the marble 
balustrade and stood there motionless looking 
down at something there on the altar. Yearn- 
ingly and unconsciously Mamie stepped into the 
deep calm of the silent gallery. She seemed to 
be borne on the wings of idealism, so noiselessly 
and gracefully she glided down the carpeted aisle, 
nearer and nearer to the altar. Her heart seemed 
to refuse to beat, and her footsteps faltered. 
Even when within just a few steps of him, con- 


254 


CAIN. 


science drew back and sounded a retreat, but de- 
termination and that yearning, hungry heart 
whispered: ^Tlease, just for Lilian’s sake,” and 
that conscience obeyed. When within a few feet 
of him she paused to look at his hopeless, desper- 
ate countenance which was revealed by the bril- 
liant light of the chandelier that was suspended 
over the altar, and streamed its light over the 
choir end. The lines of ceaseless agony in his 
face told the story of a life of long suffering. 
Only a moment held her thus. She courageously 
and noiselessly advanced, and thrusting one hand 
around him she laid it firmly upon the dagger and 
put the other, beautiful, white and warm, upon 
his listless fingers and clasped them passionately. 
She looked sweetly — ah, so sweetly — up into his 
haggard face, and her voice whispered half aloud, 
tremulously and tenderly: 

^^Oh, Mr. Cain, do not break poor Lilian’s inno- 
cent heart ! Dismiss all your dreadful intentions 
and try to live for her sake, — Oh, won’t you?” 

“Oh, Mamie! My darling Fjonkon! My be- 
loved I” 

His wonderful pleading cry, the strange pathos 
of its hopeless tone rang with startling echoes 
through the silent church. 

Mamie sprang back and threw up her hands in 
Caryatic attitude. She was amazed. The name 
of her obscure childhood was upon his lips. 

But she had no time to ponder. 


CAIN. 


255 


CHAPTER XXL 

Cain stood by her with his arms extended 
toward her; and there shone in his face and eyes 
a serene rapture that she had never seen there 
before. He was advancing toward her; she drew 
still back, but he followed her and caught her in 
his passionate embrace, and while she struggled 
in vain to free herself, he strained her to his 
heart. 

‘^Oh, child, my darling, don’t you know me! 
Did you believe I could bid you farewell and die 
a shameful death and go down in a dreary tomb 
never to see you again? Do you believe I could 
let you go away to those far-away heathens to be 
ridiculed and sorely tried by their cruel homicidal 
barbarism ? 

^Ah, Mamie, I knew you would come to me 
here. My darling, you did not know that I know 
how many nights you have sat by your window 
and waited and watched and listened for me to 
return. You were sitting by your window to- 
night thinking of me, praying for me, crying for 
me. You saw me; I said something but you did 
not hear it. But you knew it all. You knew that 
I could bear my torturing love no longer, and that 
I came here to die. Yes, to die and go down, 


256 


CAIN. 


down, away somewhere.” His voice sank to a 
far-away sadness. ^^Oh, I must die if I must 
give up my precious angel, my only hope that has 
sustained my wretched and ruined life these many 
long dreary years ! Oh, no, my dearling, my life- 
long lover ! You cannot go away to the heathens. 
You are mine forever!” 

Ht is dishonorable in you; it is cowardly dis- 
dain for you to speak such words to me ! Eelease 
me at once and take your contemptible hands off 
me ! You have no right to hold me in your arms, 
let me go !” She struggled with all her might to 
free herself, but he held her tightly against his 
breast. 

^^Oh, Mamie, you jealously blind child, it is 
for your own sake that you have followed me and 
not for the sake of that precious child Lilian, who 
sleeps in peace at ‘Gethsemane.^ Ah, you hide 
your face against my shoulders and refuse to 
speak, but your beautiful eyes too long have mir- 
rored the secret of your pure guileless soul. You 
are too proud to admit it. 

^‘Darling, I have never loved but one woman in 
this wide world, and all along down through the 
gloomy, dark years of my desolate and desperate 
life that love has remained in my heart and sus- 
tained me.” 

He drew her beautiful face to his lips as if to 
kiss her lips, but she turned it from him; and he 
whispered in the tenderest tone that she had ever 
heard from mortal lips. It seemed to steal with 
infinitely seductive and soothing touch through 
the purest and most passionate love-lit realms of 
her flaming heart. Thus he whispered: 


CAIN. 


257 


'^Oh, my darling Mamie! My sweet Tiily of 
the Valley/ If you could only look into the 
desolate solitude of my lonely heart, and there 
behold the beautiful idol that has survived all 
other propensities and affections ; and which 
stands there alone enshrouded in the lonely gray 
ruins of ashes where all other affections have 
perished in the flames of my maddened, outraged 
heart, you would there behold a never-dying love 
for the beautiful pure woman, Mamie Homean 

‘^You are wickedly false! You are dishoner- 
ably contemptuous in your behavior to me. You 
do not love me any more than you do that dagger 
there which is an enemy to your life. Oh, Mr. 
Cain, I have always believed you were unwaver- 
ingly true and free from deceit; do not force me 
to believe you guilty of such despicable hypocrisy ; 
and release me that I may go away from you for- 
ever. Oh, I shudder in your merciless polluted 
arms 

He unwound his arms and seated her in one of 
the pews; then walked quickly to the door and 
locked it, and came back to his captured, but not 
conquered victim. He stood like a towering 
statue above her with folded arms and looked 
down upon her. 

In clear, eloquent, perfect accents his voice rang 
through the solemn Temple: 

^‘This night shall be a night of great revelation 
to you. I am the messenger bearing the secret 
story of a wonderful past with which you have 
been mysteriously connected. I now lead you to 
the fagade of the dismal tomb of my buried youth 
and roll back the curtains that have silently en- 


268 


CAIN. 


shrouded its wretched, ruined and wasted palace 
of happiness and innocency, that you may know 
all the painful truth.” 

He knelt beside her as she sat in the pew with 
her head bowed in her palms, and taking her 
hands and holding them down with one strong 
hand, he placed the other under her chin, and 
forced her to look into his face. He threw his 
head back and laughed a wicked mirthless laugh; 
and its echoes wandered through the arched and 
tall columns of the vision-like steroscopic sanctu- 
ary like lonely solivagrants wandering over in- 
frequented solitudes. Then his face grew livid 
and a strange light leaped into the passionate 
depths of his wonderful eyes. 

^‘Oh, Mamie, my darling ! Don’t you know 
me? Look once more into my face and search 
earnestly for one faint trace of recognition.” 

He smiled; she drew back and gazed wonder- 
ingly at him. 

‘T know you as Mr. Cain and that is the extent 
of my knowledge of you. Indeed, it is strange 
that you know my infant name, ^Fjonkon.” 

He looked toward heaven; his lips moved and 
tears came slowly over his careworn, haggard face 
and fell upon her hands. He drew a beautiful 
morocco-bound Bible from his pocket, kissed it, 
knelt beside her again, and placed it in her hands. 

“Mamie, there is a wonderful story contained 
within the sacred pages of that wonderful book; 
but more wonderful is the story that moulders in 
my heart to-night, and clamors for speech.” 

He put his hand under her chin, clasped her 
hand with the other, and as the tears streamed 


CAIN. 


259 


from his weeping eyes, he spoke in a strange 
tremulous voice full of pathos: 

^‘Darling Mamie, I kneel here at your feet, and, 
in the presence of Almighty God, I solemnly 
affirm that my words are the eternal truth, 

‘‘I am Leland Burnett!’^ 

A wonderful silence gathered in the echo of 
his voice, and lulled itself to sleep in its own per- 
fect stillness. Only the ticking of his watch 
could be heard as it seemed to be beating time 
with her throbbing heart, while she gazed vacantly 
and bewildered up into his truthful face. Her 
lips trembled; her eyes grew dim; and the room 
seemed to turn with her. A half-smothered cry 
escaped her lips as she hid her face in her hands. 
Some five or ten minutes elapsed before he spoke, 
then he put his lips to her ear and said ten- 
derly — ah, so tenderlx: 

“Down through all these trying, these dreary 
years I have never ceased to love the sweet child 
who first stole into my heart and won the deep- 
est, purest passion of my soul. That child is 
Mamie Homean 

“I can not believe you! You are deceitful. 
You ceased to love me the moment you first saw 
Lilian Dillon! You love her! I know it — I 
have watched it! Go! you cowardly hypocrite! 
Get out of my sight if you do not want me to 
utterly despise you She struggled to free her- 
self, but he elapsed her cheek to his heart and 
she could hear and feel the mad passionate beat- 
ing of its quick violent throbbing. 

“But, Mamie, darling, when you are my wife 
you will feel more kindly toward me and will 


260 


CAIN. 


sorely repent of having ever uttered such shame- 
ful epithets against me. I always knew you were 
jealous because I was so specially mindful of Lili- 
an, and I was always glad of it. You shall be 

my wife ! I no longer will tolerate ” 

^^Never in this world will I be your wife! I 
confess that I once loved you when you were good 
and innocent, but now — Oh, now V’ 

‘Then you fully believe that I am indeed Le- 
land Burnett? Dear Mamie, look at me again. 
Is this the Leland Burnett you first learned to 
love? Do you remember that morning when I 
told you that you would know me some day ? Oh, 
how true were my words! Yes, you not only 
know my terrible life; you not only know me, but 
you love me so entirely that you can never con- 
quer it. Oh, darling Mamie,’’ and he strained 
her more passionately to his heart, “do you re- 
member when you told me that you were no 
longer queen of nature; that you had fallen pro- 
strate at the feet of a king greater than you; that 
that king was Love, and that Love was I? Do 
you remember that I pledged to you that I would 
trust you forever? Yes, I know you do. Then, 
do you think I have ever doubted you? Do you 
remember when we told each other good-by. 0 
my God !” he gasped in despair. 

“Oh, is it you? Can it be possible, Mr. Cain? 
And if so, Oh, for God’s sake, forgive me, for I 
feel that I have been the cause of your wretched 
life. Will you. Oh 

Her voice was choked with a sob, then a groan ; 
she grew pale and attempted to rise but fell back 
helpless. 


CAIN. 


261 


^‘Yes, sweet Mamie, I forgive you and I love 
you still. Won’t you come to me now, my own 
dear Mamie?” he held out his arms, but she drew 
back in horror. 

‘‘But, Leland, you can see no good in my sex; 
you have declared your utter detestation and abso- 
lute distrust for all women; you are false! Mr. 
Cain can not love; his heart is perished; it has 
burned to ashes. Do not repeat such another in- 
famous dissimulating assertion if you do not want 
me to hate you forever! Let me out of here, I 
want to be free from your polluted presence.” 

“Darling, yonder pale moon which descends 
the celestial avenues of heaven and looks in 
through that open window is the same moon that 
looked down upon the pious Nicodemus and the 
Saviour as they talked together in holy sacred con- 
verse; and ere it sank behind the horizon they 
had finished their sacred conference. So it shall 
be to-night. It shall not leave its ethereal realms 
till I shall have told you a wonderful story; for 
‘I have somewhat to say unto thee.’ 

“Mamie, you are as a captured bird which 
trembles even while it is being caressed and 
fondled; and you apprehend that you are im- 
prisoned here with the vile presence of a devil 
and while he speaks words of endearment to you 
you are frightened. When I shall have finished 
my story, and you shall have gone away for a long 
time, perhaps, then you will remember the sacred 
import of my language when I say that I love 
you with an everlasting love — a love which no 
other woman can ever hope to enjoy or claim; and 


262 CAIN. 

you will return to me as a prodigal child to its 
home. 

^‘Mamie, you know how wretched I am — what 
an awful sinful life I am living ! You shudder 
when you compare my life now to my life when 
you knew me an innocent Christian gentleman ; 
but, Mamie, when you have tried this hard old 
sinful world and proved it as I have, you will not 
reproach me so cruelly.” His voice was broken 
and he groaned. 

‘^It is useless to tell you of the intervening 
events that occurred while I lived at our beauti- 
ful home near Nashville. I lead you back to the 
ruined and wasted battle-field, where my noble 
manhood was slaughtered; where a desolate waste 
of a blackened burned soul went dovm in ashes, 
and from there follow me over the dark gloomy 
pathway of a ruined and wasted life !” 

will listen to you, Leland, for I feel that I 
must know the great mystery. Tell me all.” 

He clasped his hands before him and closed 
his eyes for a moment, while the tears ventured 
through the closed lids; then he began: 

“First there are some incidents in my life 
which are secretly and mysteriously connected 
with my life. I once knew a man who was a ter- 
rible agent from the devil and his Hades. His 
name was Adam Mathes, and his doctrinal pro- 
clivities were a conglomerated collection of skepti- 
cal speculations, affirming that Pantheism and 
universal orthodoxy were all vulgar superstitions; 
that men should not believe what they could not 
understand, i.e., the entire Bible. He entertained 
many other contradictory fanatical ideas. His 


CAIN. 


263 


fiery doctrine impressed me wonderfully, though 
I was reluctant to admit it even to myself. How- 
ever, I resisted the temptation with true Chris- 
tian fortitude, and only that poor mortal who has 
once tasted the sweetness of a Christian life then 
has plunged into the awful abyss of sin, can re- 
member and appreciate its holiness and its purity. 

‘^Mamie, I have here in my pocket a little black 
casket which contains the solitary cruel weapon 
and its agent which mocked me, betrayed me, and 
slew my heart. Did you know, darling Mamie, 
that it was a message from you that transformed 
me into a raging devil seeking whom I may de- 
vour? Did you know that I was looking at you 
that memorable evening when you met Alton Tol- 
liver at the river in the gloaming twilight and 
fell upon your knees at his feet crying and plead- 
ing before him ? Oh, you look blankly and 
blandly at me and wonder how I ever knew. I 
was there, I watched you both.” 

^^But, Mr. Cain, it was peculiar circumstances 
that necessitated our meeting there. You are 
too rash in your reproach.” 

'Tor God’s sake, Mamie, don’t make me more 
helpless and miserable by shattering the already 
weak confidence which I have in you. Oh, child, 
I am already wretched enough ; do not be unfaith- 
ful and deceithful ! You say it was circum- 
stances which made it necessary for you to meet 
at your trysting place. Did you never tell him 
that you loved him?” 

He looked at her with the keenness of his mag- 
netic eyes and she felt that he was reading her 


264 


CAIN. 


very soul. But she looked up at him bravely and 
answered defiantly: 

‘^No, sir, Mr. Cain. I did not. God forbid 
that I am ever so treacherous and trifling.” 

"Ah, child, I knew that I was justifiable in my 
suspicion and want of confidence and trust toward 
your treacherous, fickle sex. I did hope so much 
that you would be truthful, but alas ! you have 
sadly proven the universal duplicity and despica- 
ble stratagem of your sex !” He groaned, closed 
his eyes in silence for a moment, then drew from 
the vest pocket nearest his heart the little black 
casket, and opening it he handed to her the little 
note which he found on the large rock by the 
river. 

She took it and with trembling, blanched lips 
scanned the words which she had written years 
ago to Alton Tolliver. When she had finished it, 
it fluttered from her hand, and she looked up with 
appealing anguish in her strangely brilliant eyes 
to the man who stood before her looking sadly, 
hopelessly and coldly down upon her. She wrung 
her hands in anguish while he smiled mockingly 
and incredulously at her discomfiture. She hid 
her face for a moment and tried to think. Ah, 
that fatal note ! Ah, well she knew now the mys- 
tery of his estrangement from God; of his deep- 
seated aversion for her sex. Inevitably that note 
would shatter and destroy his trust and fidelity. 
Apparently she was proven false, unfaithful, 
dissimulating and treacherous. Ah, how her 
heart bled, how it ached with the pain of that 
ever-torturing, yet never-dying anguish. How 
awful it seemed to realize that just one brief mis- 


CAIN. 


265 


sive and one pitiful kneeling posture had turned 
a great noble Christian heart away from God. 

At last she looked up at him mournfully, peni- 
tently and truthfully; her beautiful white hands 
went up in a tender pitiful pleading gesture ; and 
there was a tenderness in her rich trembling voice 
the rareness of which only the truest, devotedest, 
most sympathizing and most loving heart can re- 
spond through that strange medium of telepathy. 
Thus she pleaded: 

“Oh, Leland, can you trust me just for this one 
moment 

“Darling, my heart will trust you, for I can- 
not control it; but I, myself, perhaps, would ques- 
tion your integrity. I will listen at least.^^ 

“Alton had always loved me, but, oh, he was so 
sinful, so wicked, so callous. I never regarded him 
more than as a friend. I was specially, ah, yes, 
deeply interested in the salvation of his immortal 
soul. I had pleaded with and reasoned with him 
to forsake his sinful life and to come to Jesus. 
Oh, how I longed to rescue that poor wretched 
boy from perdition ! And, Leland, do you know 
the secret of my special interest in him? It was 
because he was your intimate, ah, yes, verily your 
affectionate friend, and I hoped and prayed that 
he might become a Christian that you would have 
no evil influence to bear upon you. Oh, Leland, 
I loved you then as I believe I can never love 
again. I spent many a wakeful night thinking 
of you, and planning for your safety and your 
happiness. I knew that your life was lonely at 
times, for you told me once that my childish 
fancy concerning life blinded me. You told me 


266 


CAIN. 


that there is no life but what shadows darken 
over its way. You said there are times when one 
loses confidence in all things and hates all exist- 
ence. You attributed it to a vacancy in the 
yearning heart. And, dear Leland, I tried to 
help you live happy by supplying that Vacancy.^ 
Poor Alton had pleaded for my heart, my love; 
he had pleaded for me to be his wife. He asked 
me to help him live happier. He asked for an 
opportunity to talk with me once more and plead 
his cause; then I wrote him that letter asking him 
to meet me at the river that fatal evening; which 
you know he did. Ah, Leland, believe me when I 
say that when I fell upon my knees at his feet I 
was praying for his soul’s salvation. I could not 
help crying, I was so broken-hearted over his terri- 
ble, deplorable, sinful life. Oh, Mr. Cain, do not 
chide me nor rebuke me, for I am innocent of 
your cruel charge that I am deceitful and treach- 
erous. God in heaven knows I am innocent of the 
sin of deception!” 

He looked earnestly at her for a moment, then 
he looked upward, clasping his hands before him 
and cried out in a tone of strangest, deepest and 
most terrorizing anguish that ever a depraved man 
uttered : 

“My God ! My God ! Thou art unjust ! 0 

God, that I had known the truth years ago be- 
fore — ” he hushed; he looked more hopeless and 
desperate than he had ever looked before. He 
caught Mamie in his arms and strained her to 
his heart, while his manly frame shook violently 
with convulsive sobs and deep groans. 

“Oh, sweet darling of my heart, I have been 


CAIN. 


267 


terribly misled. I never knew the truth till now. 
Oh, that I had known it then; I might have been 
different now ! But, alas ! it is inevitably too late 
now! I am ruined, desolate; a depraved, dis- 
torted wretch !” 

He held her for a moment longer, then put her 
from him and leaned back against the railing of 
the gallery and continued his story: 

“The sight of that note and the mocking vision 
of your kneeling at the feet of him who had de- 
ceived me turned me into a raging demon, and 
every nohle aspiration, every spark of holy, con- 
secrated love in my heart went out of me, leaving 
me a wretched, ruined habitation of desolation. 
A fiendish devil entered my petrified heart and 
proclaimed itself to reign over my mutilated, de- 
formed, blasted life. I had received a letter from 
some unknown source before I was utterly and 
inevitably betrayed, which was designed to have 
been written by you. In that letter you informed 
me to dismiss all my hopes and affections for you ; 
that you had found a more congenial suitor nearer 
home. Oh, child, it was this that stung me to 
desperation. I was in Washington at the time 
and I somehow could not believe that you would 
treat me so cruelly. I, therefore, went to Nash- 
ville to plead with you and win you back to my 
heart. They told me that you had gone to the 
river, and I hurried hopefully on, trusting that 
somehow you would give me a happy sweet wel- 
come like you had always done, so peculiarly fas- 
cinatingly. But, ah me! how bitterly my hopes 
and sweet expectations were mocked and de- 
stroyed ! There my heart ignited with the terrible 


268 


CAIN. 


flames of insatiable vengeance. I was transformed. 
My quondam affections burned to ashes and I be- 
came a hopeless, mocking, savage devil. I hur- 
ried away from that tormenting place to get my 
gun and I hurried back to kill him ! But you 
both were gone. I sought him everywhere. And 
at last found him in the outskirts of Washington 
one moonlight night, and there I shot him down 
with a murderous heart in my bosom as black as 
hell ! Oh, what a horrible scene to see my friend, 
my rival, lying at my feet, groaning in the very 
jaws of death. I thought that I heard the voice 
of an outraged Jehovah crying unto me from the 
lips of a dark primitive age, saying : ^Cain, 
where is thy brother?’ and immediately I fancied 
that I was indeed that ancient Cain who first 
stained his hands with the blood of his brother, 
and I answered in the language of him who first 
disputed with God: ^Am I my brother’s keeper?’ 
Then 1 heard the eternal voice say again: ^His 
voice crieth out to me from the ground.’ I fled 
from the horrible scene. I yielded to every sort 
of licentious living and plunged into the infernal 
abyss of vice. God had forsaken me; my loved 
one had renounced me; and all the world seemed 
to be cruelly trampling me under foot. I cursed 
God and went out into his kingdom to destroy his 
habitation ; I raged and rebelled against Him as 
a roaring lion in the forest ; and I sought in every 
way conceivable to make mankind and especially 
women, who had treacherously hurt me and made 
my soul, miserable. Oh, it was a pleasure to see a 
beautiful girl suffer the consequences of a fickle 
abandoned love which she had cherished and at 


CAIN. 


269 


last lost. I indulged the heir ous pleasure of 
trifling with the tender affection of one, Mirable 
Irving. Ah, she loved me ! I won her heart 
while we were at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, New 
York, then cruelly and mockingly deserted her. 
This I felt would gratify my vindictive heart and 
allay my misery. She to-day is dying under the 
torturing pain of an eternally broken heart, and 
I am more miserable than ever. 

‘‘My last memory of my rival was as I saw him 
grappling with death, and the blood oozing from 
his breast. I felt that I had killed him. 

“I sought peace in the wicked, excessive in- 
dulgence in strong drink, and as 1 plunged deeper 
and deeper into sin I turned to an infidel. I said 
there was no God, for if there was, where was his 
justice ? 

“Oh, reproach me mercifully, for I was tried as 
no other boy was ever tried. 

“When I went away I changed my name, be- 
cause I hated it, and since then I have been known 
as Mr. Cam. I was a murderer, and the voice 
of Eternal Justice haunted my every waking hour 
and my every dream, crying unto me, ‘Cain ! 
Cain! CainT 

“I went away to wander over the dreary world 
seeking some peaceful alcove where I could be free 
from the cruel world. I tried to forget you — aye, 
I even tried to hate you, but somehow my desolate 
heart clung to you. And I have never ceased to 
love you even amidst all these trials of my weary 
life. Now, my darling, with the fact of such a 
true and everlasting, passionate love, can you not 
come to me? Oh, come, sweet Mamie!’’ 


270 


CAIN. 


He reached his arms toward her. She whis- 
pered and she shuddered and groaend while 

she kept her face hid in her palms. He took the 
trembling hands down and kissed them, then re- 
sumed his story: 

grew desperately savage. I roamed over 
savage, barbarous lands, isolated islands, and in 
the cold, merciless bleak polar regions in search 
of peace for my wretched soul. Christianity was 
a mockery to me, for I had united my love, my 
hopes and my Christian aspirations together and 
the unity terminated in a cruel, mocking fatuity. 

“One day I was standing in the grand old Coli- 
seum in Eome watching the multitudes pass back 
and forth. While I was looking I saw a person 
through the Arch of Titus, and he advanced to- 
ward me with a fiendish glare in his eyes. I was 
astonished ; for the first time I believed my eyes 
were deceiving me. It was Alton Tolliver! I 
would have fallen humbly and penitently pros- 
trate at his feet to implore his pardon, but just 
then he drew his revolver and fired one shot at 
me and demanded my surrender. Then that roar- 
ing lion of a devil within me leaped forth, and 
in the twinkling of an eye an Italian duello was 
being speedily executed. Through the angry drifts 
of smoke I again saw the awful visage of my an- 
tagonist as he clutched desperately in the dust. 
Oh, deliver me from the terrible look of his writh- 
ing face! 

“I was sullen. I replaced my revolver in my 
pocket and walked away without being arrested. 

“I then enlisted in the South African army and 
helped those rebel natives in their struggle against 


CAIN. 


271 


their English oppressors. It was there that I pur- 
chased my fine Canadian horse and became a gen- 
eral of their army. I kept my priceless steed, and 
since that time he has gone with me to roam this 
old world over. 

^‘I traveled into Norway with a company of 
English noblemen on a fishing and prospecting 
tour. One day after we had been fishing for some 
time I absented myself from the company and 
wandered over a deep still valley, where the waters 
could hear nothing but the continual splash, 
splash of their own silver sprays. There I spied 
a lonely path that wound through and up among 
the dense foliage of a dark pine forest. Through 
curiosity I followed its course and soon found 
myself at the threvshold of a beautiful castle, 
which crowned a precipice overlooking a beautiful 
bay. I saw a middle-aged woman reclining in a 
large hammock suspended between two tall trees 
in front of her quiet home. I was at once im- 
pressed with the perfect tranquillity of such a 
beautiful Norwegian Tecluse.^ I asked the lady 
for a cool drink of water, which she cordially 
gave me. After a few moments’ conversation she 
seemed to become specially interested in me, and 
she began to open up to me her secret, lonely life 
and to give a history of her hidden castle. She 
told me that I was the first person that had ever 
visited the place since its construction. She be- 
gan far back to her earliest known ancestry and 
traced the lineage up to where the family name 
was destroyed by a dispersion caused by the war 
between the States. She married General Har- 
well, with whom she lived some years in Liverpool, 


272 


CAIN. 


where he died of fever in the earlier part of the 
year 1890. Broken-hearted, she went to Norway, 
built her favorite castle and had lived in it till I 
ventured the discovery of its seclusion, 

^^That woman was my dear Aunt Nettie Har- 
well, who sleeps yonder in my mountain man- 
sion. When she gave me her history and the line 
of her ancestry I at once knew her to be my aunt. 

^^Mamie, you know I was a poor orphan boy of 
obscure parentage, and I never knew until some 
months ago that my dear father and precious 
mother still lived. It was a villain’s confession 
that informed me of the mysterious fact. 

^^Oh, Mamie, my darling, believe me when I 
say that the people, Mr. Dillon’s family, with 
whom I lived so long in Washington and with 
whom you lived so long before I came to ‘‘Geth- 
semane’ are my long-lost parents ! The dear 
sweet child, Lilian, is even more than a sweet- 
heart. She is my only dear sister! Oh, Mamie, 
you know not the extent of your wonderful teach- 
ing to that dear, sweet little sister! Your fidelity 
to God, your pure, consistent life has wrought a 
revolution in one human heart that will last for- 
ever. Oh, darling, I shall never censure or mock 
your religion again. I shall never curse God 
again; and never another vile oath shall pollute 
my lips. The pre-eminence of your soul makes 
my soul the blacker and more corrupt by com- 
parison; but it is not so callous that it cannot 
love you ; oh, no ; I still love you ! Oh, child, you 
can lift me from the awful infernal perdition into 
which I have fallen if you will ! You know, Ma- 
mie, and I know that you love me deeply, and 


CAIN. 


273 


helplessly, earnestly, in spite of your conscious 
aversion for me. Oh, you love me, darling ! Won’f 
you come to Leland, who has proven that he will 
love you always ? Oh, child, come 

He waited a moment. She only remained still, 
and he heard her groan pitifully and saw her 
shudder. But she would not look up. 

“It is useless to ask you if you remember the 
little golden locket that I gave you and trusted 
to your safe-keeping. There is only one mystery 
connected with it, and that is you either betrayed 
my trust or you lost it; for I found it one time 
while I was traveling along a lonely highway in 
Australia. I don’t know why it was there, but, 
oh, child, it made me yield up all confidence; you 
had betrayed my trust.” 

“Oh, Leland, I was traveling in Australia one 
time; perhaps I lost it. I did not betray your 
trust. You are wickedly unjust ! I am as inno- 
cent of prying into the interior of that little shrine 
as the little bird that sings all day long in his 
prison cage in the corridor back at ^Gethsemane.’ ” 

There was a silence when she ceased speaking, 
and during that silence Leland hid his face 
against the railing’s silken mantle and a half- 
smothered, shuddering moan came from the 
depths of his heart. At last he spoke: 

“I brought that little locket to America with 
me and had it skilfully fitted in a beautiful shell, 
and in that shell on its pink concave I dictated the 
inscription of the words, ‘A Vagabond of Nod.’ 

I was, indeed, that wretched vagabond of Nod. I 
kept that shell about my person for a long time, 
but at last I lost it in the solitudes of this moun- 


274 


CAIN. 


tain. But one day while I was watching Lilian, 
who had come to the big spring after her morning 
ramble, I saw her peeping at something in the 
spring and at last when she had fished success- 
fully for the object I saw her draw up out of the 
water my favorite shell-shrine. I would have ad- 
vanced to take it from her but I saw she was so 
well pleased with it that I could not cruelly take 
from her. I knew that she would take care of it, 
it, anyway. 

^^Oh, darling, God only knows how often I have 
hidden in the jungles and cliffs of this old moun- 
tain watching with famished heart and hungry 
eyes the beautiful child, my dear, sweet sister, as 
she rambled alone in the great mountain, singing 
and laughing and talking to herself and to the 
birds in childish merriment. 

“I left the mountain and went to New York 
and resided one year in the Waldorf-Astoria 
Hotel. But I became restless and savage, and 
wandered back to 'Gethsemane,' a bitter, hopeless 
vagrant. 

‘Gt was a beautiful morning, and I had se- 
creted myself behind a cluster of ivy vines to 
watch for my dear little sister again. I saw her 
coming up the hill with some one with her. I 
wondered who it was. I could not believe myself, 
for it was Mamie Homean. Oh, child, you looked 
so sweet that I could hardly restrain myself from 
springing forward and straining you to my heart. 
But I was too independent to intrude, as you had 
already dismissed me; and I, a poor, desolate, 
savage vagabond did not feel disposed to conde- 
scend to recognize the very sex that had slain me. 


CAIN. 


275 


I hurried away to where I had hitched my favor- 
ite horse, and mounting him galloped across a 
gulf toward my yelping hounds, w'ho were in eager 
pursuit of a deer. Somehow I lost the route, 
and in his excited speed my horse burst through 
the jungles, nearly leaping upon you both. No 
doubt you think I did strange by shooting there 
in your presence. But, ah ! how often a wretched 
murderer like me is haunted by the ghastly spec- 
tre of his victim pursuing with maddening rage 
after him. And what did I know but that he 
had not died in the old Coliseum, where 1 shot 
him, as I had failed to end his life in Washing- 
ton. I thought I saw my bloody antagonist pur- 
suing after me with a grim death-like visage, and 
I fired at him. But all was blankness and void 
and delusion. As I had casually come into your 
presence I then took time to look at you both and 
to try you if you would recognize me. But to my 
chagrin you did not. I turned away with anger 
and vexation from you — to sullen to make my 
identity known. 

'As to how the pretty precious shell-shrine 
came in the spring was very plain. I had passed 
that way some time before and had evidently 
dropped it from my hunting-vest pocket into the 
spring while I was stooped over drinking from 
the cool spring. That beautiful shell-shrine is 
yonder at 'Gethsemane’ on the black marble table 
in the rotunda. I now give you this little key 
that you may unlock it when you choose to do so; 
and I now give you the privilege to see all the 
contents which have been hidden from you for so 
long. Darling, look at them, think of me, and 


276 


CAIN. 


keep them in remembrance of the man whose 
everlasting love they typify V* 

He took a golden key from his vest-pocket and 
handed it to her as he talked. His strong body 
shook and his lips blanched and fluttered as a deep 
half-smothered moan escaped them and he clasped 
his hands before him in anguish. Mamie toyed 
with the little key in her fingers and looked at it 
a moment; then looked up with a beautiful light 
in her pensive eyes, but her face was stern, cold 
and pale. 

“Mr. Cain, I have no need for this key. I do 
not care to look into the little shrine, as I have 
already looked into it once. God is my witness 
that I never once suspected that it was the little 
casket that Leland had given to me till I had al- 
ready opened it. But even then I did not abso- 
lutely know that it was my locket. But now you 
have explained all the great mystery. Take it 
away, Mr. Cain, for it will forever cause me pain 
to look at it. I know you once loved me, but now, 
0 Leland, you have wandered far away from 
God; you have trampled unmercifully upon pure 
innocent womanhood; and you can no longer love 
me with the pollution of such black crimes in your 
heart. Take your precious locket and shell, and 
as you doubtless regard me as untrusworthy for 
having opened it you are released from bestowing 
your affections upon me. Stand back and let me 
leave this room!’’ 

She sprang to her feet, but Leland caught her 
in his loving embrace, and held her tightly, pas- 
sionately. 

“Oh, child, of course I could not let you go. 


C A I K . 


277 


You are the only true woman I ever knew. You 
have shown me a heart so pure, so passionate, so 
frank ! Mamie, I had always believed you were 
more truthful than can be credited to your treach- 
erous sex, but, 0 darling, I could not believe you 
were so entirely free from deception and strata- 
gem as you have proven yourself to be 

He held her a moment, and then put her back 
into her place in the pew and continued: 

^Trom the moment I first saw you at the spring 
with my little sister I have watched you, ah, hop- 
ing that I might notice some strange freak in your 
daily life that would justify my revenge against 
you who had betrayed me. ]\Iany a night I have 
secreted myself in the shadows of those rooms in 
‘Gethsemane’ to watch you, and to my chagrin I 
have seen you and heard you offer up to God your 
deepest, purest devotions. I was hid in a 
small alcove near the rotunda the very night that 
you opened the little shrine. I saw you turn the 
little shell about in your fingers and examine it. 
I almost prayed that you would open it; but you 
were about to put it away and I cursed my fate. 
I waited in dreadful suspense. Oh, the torturing 
of such anxiety! At last I could have cried out 
with a vindictive, savage feeling of triumphant 
victory when I saw you put your little key in that 
lock and open it. Satisfaction ! Oh, it was satis- 
faction to me to see you blacken your soul with 
the sin of unfaithfulness ! I thought it would be, 
but, alas, words can never tell how utterly desolate 
I was when I saw you fall down — down — 0 my 
God ! You looked at your own likeness with as- 
tonishment and with tearful eyes; then put them 


278 


CAIN. 


all back. I knew that all hope for me was gone 
then, for you had snapped the only slender thread 
of my confidence and left it dying on the famish- 
ing desert of a desolate Sahara. 

‘‘I believe you are true now. Oh, I was so cruel 
to hope that you would sink into the slough of 
sin; but, child, think of me as I was in that terri- 
bly distorted state of mind. Oh, I was raging 
and crying for ease of conscience and satisfaction 
of heart! 

‘^Many a night I have stolen into my house un- 
observed and secreted myself where I could see 
your beautiful face while you pored over your 
books at night, or hear your musical voice in con- 
versation. All this I did that I might learn of 
your faithfulness or of your treachery. One 
night I had watched you while you read about the 
murder of Heera LalFs daughter till you finished 
and left the library at the lonely hour of twelve. 
I was near enough to you to put my hand out and 
touch you, but I would not. Ah, little did you 
know that two 5^eaming, hungry eyes were upon 
your beautiful face while you toiled on. I caused 
my shadow to fall across the fioor in the rotunda 
just as you passed the door, and I touched two 
billiard balls together that I might attract your 
attention. I heard you stop and waited for you 
to come, but you passed on. Do you remember 
the night, Mamie?” 

^^Yes, Mr. Cain, I remember well.” 

Her voice was tremulous, but she did not look 
up. 

^^Mamie, I was near you that evening when you 
read in the paper the account of my death in 


CAIN. 


279 


Washington. I watched you eagerly to see the 
effect it would have upon you. I saw you fall; 
then my hear^ rejoiced, but my conscience was 
sullen to admit that you were faithful still.^’ 

He paused a moment, and he heard her sob- 
bing. 

^Tive years ago I built that beautiful ‘Geth- 
semane’ mansion. I chose that spot because of its 
perfect seclusion and beautiful scenery, that I 
might return to it when I became tired of the 
world and enjoy its peace and tranquillity. 

“I had been to the village one night and was 
on my way back to ^Gethsemane’ when I stopped 
on the little brown bridge to rest and look out 
over the river and the fairy land of beautiful val- 
leys sleeping under a dream of moonlight. I was 
weary, sad and lonely. I had not rested there long 
till some one stepped upon the bridge and ad- 
vanced toward me. I sprang to my feet and faced 
him. He shouted in thunderous, commanding 
tones: ^Half then shot me. The ball was buried 
in my side; I fell, but rose again and confronted 
him. It was Alton Tolliver. He spoke in hur- 
ried, mad accents to me: 

^Your perverted black heart has no rightful 
claim upon Mamie Homean, whose love you once 
possessed; and yet your damnable conspiracy has 
led her away here into obscurity. I have come and 
I demand the beautiful person of Mamie Ho- 
mean !’ 

‘H answered clearly and emphatically: Ht is 
not within my power to restore her to you, and I 
emphatically assure you that you shall fail of your 
purpose if you demand from me the delivery of 


280 


CAIN. 


that woman to you or any information of her. I 
am a character whom it is impossible to frighten 
into terms or actions. I neither. jump to con- 
clusions nor leap to actions through excitement, 
but always meditate calmly and act deliberately 
even in the thickest of ^^grape-shot.” Leave me 
at once !’ But he drew nearer, cursing madly as 
he came. I drew my revolver and threw it into 
his face, when suddenly a wild scream of horror 
rose clear and shrill from the steps that led up to 
the bridge. It was a girl clad in a beautiful white 
dress. Her voice was beautiful, though sad and 
far away, and her face was beautiful, touched with 
a shadow of painful melancholy. It was enough 
to touch the numb heart of a Sphinx, but I was 
blind, mad, desperate. She had followed Alton 
and Alton had followed me from the village. She 
clung to him and pleaded for him as no angel 
ever pleaded. Ah, how wonderfully she loved 
him. Her name was Alice Frohna, a daughter of 
a minister. She tried to appease wrath, but in 
vain. He forced her loose from him and rushed 
at me. I shot him and he fell. 0 merciful 
God, take from my mental vision the murdering 
scene of that terrible night. Thrice I had hurled 
the deadly bullet into his body to kill him ; once at 
Washington, once at Rome, and now at this horri- 
ble scene. I hoped I had killed him, but he 
aimed at me again. I drew my gun to shoot him 
again, but, alas, too late, too late! The brave 
pleading heroine fell across her lover just as I 
pulled the trigger, and the whizzing bullet went 
crashing through her breast. I stood looking 
desolately at my victims and a faint sting of con- 


CAIN. 


281 


science aroused a feeling of remorse in my hearf, 
but I stood sullenly by and watched the beautiful 
girl die as the life-blood flowed from her breast. 
There was a satisfled smile on her face, as if she 
were conscious that she had saved her loved one. 
I had killed a beautiful, innocent woman. Any 
other time I think I could have rejoiced to see a 
woman die, so vindictive was my heart against 
them. But then, 0 God, how horrible! to behold 
the dying victim of my wrath ; and she had been 
so innocent, so true, so brave. 

“She sleeps out yonder in that lonely tomb.” 
He pointed to the one lonely monument in the 
little churchyard, but she hid her face more flrmly 
in her hands, and shuddered and moaned. She 
could have looked up through an open window and 
have seen the beautiful white marble shaft that 
marked her last resting-place as it towered in the 
moonlight, but she dared not. 

“To ease my conscience I plunged into deeper 
depths of agnosticism, skepticism and atheism. I 
hated humanity and despised myself. I became 
a more helpless mundivagrant and roamed over 
the wildest and most savage portions of the world. 
I even went to Norway and sought my dear aunt 
and dragged her about with me from island to 
island, from continent to continent, across oceans, 
seas and deserts, in search of peace and ease of a 
bitter conscience. At last I became discouraged 
and came back with my aunt to ‘Gethsemane,’ 
where I found you whom I had lost so long ago. 
I found you here sorrowing, toiling and suffering 
without a soul to conflde your deep broken heart 
to. Oh, child, I have studied you, I have tried 


282 


CAIN. 


and tempted you to the extent of all my scheming 
power. All the while my love grew stronger for 
you. I tried to smother it, but somehow it lin- 
gered here in my heart forever. I determined 
many times to go abroad that I might forget you; 
but as I fancied myself wandering amid the ruins 
of some ancient palace or city far away a vision, 
of one back at ‘Gethsemane’ called me back. I 
have struggled long and desperately, but when 1 
have seen the vision of your dear face and your 
pretty, calm eyes I forgot all my hatred, all my re- 
morse, in the one single great thought of you. Oh, 
darling, how I love you 

He caught her in his arms again and whispered 
tenderly in her ear: 

^^My darling, forget my sins and cease trying 
to extinguish that love in your heart for me. 
Your proud nature must submit some sweet day, 
why not now? 1 will subdue it; I will defeat it; 
I will conquer it. Oh, yield it to my care, for I 
have learned to appreciate its value.” 

^^But, Leland, I cannot, oh, I cannot!” 

She sobbed violently and he felt her trembling 
in his arms. 

^^Oh, child, how stubborn you are. Oh, you will 
not take heed. 

“Doubtless you conjecture that I am a treach- 
erous Paolo Orsini, who would fold you, an Isa- 
bella de Medici, in my arms and secretly strangle 
you to death. But, darling, I will prove to you 
some day that I am gentle, meek and affection- 
ate. 

“After we had lived at 'Gethsemane’ some time 
T learned of your visits to ^Lonely Vicinity,’ and 


CAIN. 


283 


of your proposed religious organization in that 
section. I tried to thwart your plans by depriv- 
ing you of the privilege to w^orship in the old 
church which belonged to me; thinking, perhaps, 
you would hopelessly give up and prove your 
weak faithlessness which my vile heart wished 
might be true of you. I did not want to discover 
anything good in any one. But to my vexation 
you were courageous, loyal to God, and piously 
persistent in your labors. I was surprised and 
aroused to special interest in your proceedings. 
Many times I have secretly followed you there and 
watched and listened to your talks with those poor 
people. 

^‘Now I have told you the strange story. I am 
Leland; Lilian is my sister; Mr. and Mrs. Bil- 
lion are my parents. 

‘^It was Leland who built this magnificent ba- 
silica; and in my heart, though vile it may be, I 
dedicated it to the Lord and gave it to my darling, 
Mamie Homean, because I loved her as no man 
ever loved ! Nine hundred thousand dollars is 
not the price of my love ; but the awful atonement 
of my ruined dissipated life is only a meager 
price! Oh, Mamie, a love that endures through 
the fiery furnaces of hellish vices and savage sin- 
fulness, and that overleaps all barricades of de- 
stroyed confidence and betrayed love, is a love that 
was born before eternity, that lives through all 
ages and that is from everlasting to everlasting! 
Oh, it is worth having. And now, when you be- 
hold this church, the work of my own hands, and 
recognize the sacrificial import of its significance 
as a typical atonement for my sins against God 


284 


CAIN. 


and my intolerable rudeness and cruelty to you, 
could you not lay off that saintly robe of dignity 
and condescend to lift me, a poor dejected sinner, 
from the burning regions of hell, and save my im- 
mortal soul? Oh, spurn me not with disdainful 
treatment, but obey the admonitions and dictates 
of your consience and of your religious faith and 
bring me back into the fold of Jesus. I know 
that my life has been terrible, but, thank God, 
there is redemption ! I was sorely tried. I tried 
to cling to His promises, but the mad waves of 
hell snatched me away. I saw I was hopelessly 
ruined and I cried out to the pitiless world that 
life was a mockery and that oblivion after death 
was the sweetest heritage. I cried out in the lan- 
guage of the lamenting Jeremiah: ‘Mine her- 
itage is unto me as a lion in the forest, it crieth 
out against me, therefore have I hated it.^ 

“But I come back bringing a torn and muti- 
lated heart, a blackened and scorched soul and 
lay it at your feet and wait for your actions to 
fix its doom for hell, or for you to take it up 
tenderly and offer it to Jesus! 

“Oh, child, remember that if you contemptu- 
ously reject me I will stand at the judgment bar 
of God and with sinful gratification of my own 
doomed soul I will rejoice at the judgment of 
your own soul doomed to the same eternal hell 
because of your own obstinacy in rejecting and 
hurling me headlong into perdition. Beware ! 
Beware! You can help me, 0 my darling! You 
only can rescue my perishing soul. Oh, listen to 
my pleadings. It was one apparently unfaithful 
message of yours that hurled me downward; and 


CAIN. 


285 


BOW, one sweet message from yon will bring me 
back to Jesus. It is not too late for me to atone. 
I can be of some good in this world yet; and if 
you will only trust me, help me and love me, 
oh, what 

His voice faltered, his lips trembled, he bent 
over her, kissed her lips, and his tears fell thick 
and fast over her pretty brown hair and polished 
forehead and gently folded hands, significant of 
a holy, sacred repentance and of a baptismal 
christening of their united hearts. Again he 
stooped and kissed her trembling lips repeatedly 
and reverently, as one joyfully realizing the holy 
presence of a sacred spirit. 

^‘Now you are my darling wife ! And hence- 
forth the damnable speculations of skepticism, in- 
fidelity and atheism shall be destroyed; I shall let 
the touch of your pure lips cleanse mine from all 
obscenity and unchaste expressions with which I 
have so long imposed upon the chastity and purity 
of mankind. I shall be redeemed through the 
precious wife of my own heart. Mamie, my own, 
my very own 

As he strained her to his heart she would fain 
have yielded her heart to him, for oh ! how loudly 
his poor heart called to hers as she heard its pas- 
sionate beating against her face. But she thought 
of his cruelty upon the little brown bridge and 
she saw the spirit of poor Alice’s pure soul look- 
ing down upon the benighted ruined soul of him 
who had murdered her. And in that gaze she 
fancied she saw the prophecy of Leland’s eternal 
doom to everlasting perdition. Oh, could he ever 
atone? He was inhuman then; might he not be 


286 


CAIN. 


again? What could she do when she might per- 
chance fall a victim to his sullen, unrelenting 
wrath? She thought of the harsh words she had 
heard him utter to his aunt and how he had so 
often trampled upon her own feelings. Such an 
one could not atone, and to such a dangerous char- 
acter she would not, could not, trust her life, how- 
ever much she loved him. 

‘^Oh, Leland, you cannot restore the precious 
life of Alice. She is murdered forever ! You can- 
not make amends for the wicked blasphemy with 
which you have cursed God and mocked His di- 
vine creation, revelation and providence. You are 
a murderer, thrice a murderer ! You tried to kill 
Alton Tolliver; you murdered Alice; and by your 
awful murderous life you have murdered 
my 


She closed her lips and cried passionately like 


a broken-hearted child. 

^^Oh, yes, you mean to say that I have mur- 
dered your heart. Yes, darling, indeed, your heart 
is bleeding, but it will never die. My heart is 
bleeding, too, but it will never die. Come along 
with me; I want you to be my witness in the last 
event of my disclosing secret life.” 

He took her by the hand and led her up to the 
balustrade and there he stood as if listening to 
something beneath the floor. All was silent, and 
he touched a secret spring. Instantly a small 
door slided back and opened to view a descent of 
beautiful colored marble steps leading down into 
a dimly lighted cell. Quietly he helped Mamie 
down the steps into the strange dungeon. Though 
the cell was small it was adorned with the beau- 


CAIN. 


287 


ties of a little palace. There was a little table 
over which draped a rich fold of snow-white linen. 
A large Bible lay open amid its folds and by it 
sat a beautiful golden candlestick in Catholic 
style. Leland led her on to the bedside of a pale, 
sickly-looking man, who was sleeping soundly, 
and began in low muffled tones: 

‘‘This is the last scene of my wicked handi- 
work. I have been candid and truthful, telling 
everything as I delieverd the narrative, and now I 
come to the crowning mystery of a wonderful 
revelation. 

“This man is an archangel of infidelity; he is 
a forger ; he is a thief ; he is a kidnapper ; and if 
he were endowed with more courage he would be 
a murderer! He taught me the awful destruc- 
tive principles of hellish speculations. He 
tempted me to sin. He kidnapped me when I 
was a little boy and took me from my mother. I 
was heir to seven million dollars and he after- 
ward affirmed himself as my identity and ob- 
tained the amount to which I was heir. I never 
knew it till years afterward when I overheard his 
conversation with another thief and bank-robber. 
I captured him, put him in prison, then after- 
ward brought here to this mysterious prison. I 
constructed this cell just under the pulpit and 
brought him to it that he might hear the word of 
God preached. 

“Mamie, I imprisoned him because he had 
robbed me of my inheritance and peaceful home; 
because he had darkened my soul and instigated 
his wickedness all over the world. And I in- 
tended to kill him some day! For four long 


288 


CAIN. 


years he has been serving his penalty an^ now 
the moment has arrived that shall end his im- 
prisonment. Mamie, shall I kill him or release 
him 

Mamie shuddered; her teeth chattered. 

«Oh— don’t— don’t kill him !” 

Then Leland stooped and touched the sleeping 
man on the shoulder and shouted: 

^‘0 thou slumberer, awake and shake off this 
mortal coil of bondage and walk forth from thy 
prison-chamber a free man !” 

Mr. Mathes sprang to his feet frightened, and 
looked vacantly at them both. 

“Cain, devils, nymphs and Hades ! Do not take 
me yet. Nitroglycerine, dynamite, why — er — ah 
— ahem! Why, is that you, Cain? Hast thou 
come to slay thy brother Abel?” 

“Hush, be rational. I bring you pardon and 
freedom. Go forth from this dungeon; take this 
five thousand dollars and this Bible and be a bet- 
ter man henceforth.” 

He handed the astonished man the money and 
the Bible and pointed him to the door of the 
church. The man gazed at him with tearful 
eyes ; then seizing Leland’s hand he pleaded : “Oh, 
Leland, I have wronged you ! I have treated you 
cruelly. Oh, won’t you forgive me? Oh, hear 
while I plead. I may never see your face again, 
but I want to die with the satisfaction that my 
sins are forgiven me. Oh, will you grant me the 
pardon ?” 

Leland wept and pressed the hand more tightly 
in his. 

“Mr. Mathes, we have both been cruel to each 


CAIN. 


289 


other. I know you will pardon me for imprison- 
ing you, and I know I am only too glad to re- 
lease you and forgive you. Go on your way. I 
bid you go, be happy, be good.” 

It was, indeed, a pathetic scene to see two 
wicked, malicious hearts melt into a brotherly 
love. Mamie burst into tears and wept joyously, 
then sadly. 

Mr. Mathes bade them farewell, and went si- 
lently away from his dungeon. 

Leland and Mamie stood for some time in the 
profound silence. Then like the sound of Am- 
phion’s lyre Leland’s voice sounded upon the mid- 
night stillness and seemed to challenge the voice- 
less solitudes to outrival the effect of his tone: 

‘^That man is Mirable Irving’s husband. Ah, 
many a time that poor, broken-hearted woman 
has come to me and pleaded for her husband’s 
freedom. That is why she came to ^Gethsemane’ 
a short while back. She married him immediately 
after I deserted her. I took him from her and I 
was glad to see her broken-hearted. 

“Now, Mamie, I have told you the awful story 
of my terrible life. I have withheld nothing from 
you. I know my life is a blackened, hideous 
waste, all strewn with the bones of my helpless 
victims; but, child, when you think of the blows 
that my senstive heart and soul have encountered 
you will not marvel at my awful desperation. 

“Now, could I possess the deified and personi- 
fied soul of some beautiful nymph it would not 
suffice to gratify my hungry and desolate soul. 
No, indeed, it would not. Eros lavished his 
enamoring affections upon his beloved Psyche, 


290 


CAIN. 


and I, another Eros, have lost myself in love for 
you. But your obstinacy restrains you. Though 
I sink into the jaws of hell you would not drag 
me out. Though I plead with earnest, penitent 
heart you spurn me as you would Satan himself. 
Oh, Mamie, you wish me saved; you are weeping 
for me ! Oh, won’t you make an effort. Oh, come 
to me! Trust your heart to God, then come and 
rescue my perishing soul I” 

He gathered her in his arms and strained her 
beautiful sad face to his throbbing heart. She 
felt the convulsions of his strong body and her 
heart almost forgot to beat. 

“Oh, Leland, it is astonishing to me that you, 
so intelligent, would resort to the futile hope of 
obtaining your soul’s salvation by me — who man- 
ifest such dreadful aversion for your unmanly 
untrueness and for your unfounded presumption 
and for your opprobious epithets against my sex. 
Oh, how do you expect me to ever respect you or 
trust you after you have boldly ventured beyond 
the bounds of courtesy? Oh, Leland, your hands 
are all stained with the blood of an innocent 
woman I and it seems that I can hear poor Alice’s 
dying cry as you sent the deadly bullet through 
her heart. Oh, no ! Poor Leland, I could not 
trust you now ! Dear Leland, J esus only can save 
you. Only trust Him, His 'grace is sufficient for 
thee.’ ” 

“Oh, Mamie, it makes me shrink with uncon- 
querable dread when I think of sinking into that 
dreadful, almost hopeless trial of humble repent- 
ance alone. Oh, darling, you must not leave 
me!” He was weeping passionately. “Oh, sweet 


CAIN. 291 

Mamie, come to my arms, my pretty wife ! 
Come ” 

He opened his arms and advanced toward her, 
but she sprang desperately past him, darted up 
the steps, and glided down a narrow stairway 
leading into the dark crypt below. She had 
thought of a door there by which she could escape 
and she soon left the wonderful basilica alone 
with its lonely occupant. Down she sped along 
the valley road leading to ^^Gethsemane.’^ The 
long shadows of the woodland trees told that the 
moon had lowered its great golden shield far 
down the western skies. Mamie paused upon the 
little brown bridge to look at the blood stain where 
poor Alice was murdered and she clasped her hands 
and with bitter tears looked down upon the dull 
red blot and murmured with a sob : 

“Oh, he was cruel then; he would be again.’^ 

She passed on. 

Leland, the modem rejected Cain, wandered up 
to the beautiful marble balustrade and ventured 
to kneel for the first time since his downfall. Oh, 
if God would only hear him ! Oh, if He would 
only lift His horrible wrath and be merciful ! Oh, 
how he tried to plead ! How he sought to be sin- 
cere and utter his heartfelt thoughts to God. But 
how utterly impossible it seemed for his wretched 
soul to make sufficient atonement. At last he rose 
in despair and looked vacantly up at the altar as 
if gazing hopelessly at his destiny. The full moon 
peeped from under a marble-like cloud and cast 
its ghastly light over him. He had extinguished 
the lights and was standing in the moonlight. He 
reflected, and memories confronted him like the 


292 


CAIN. 


ghastly spirits of Parcae and all the goddesses of 
Fate who are fabled to preside over human des- 
tiny. His crime was finding him out; and his 
soul was writhing under its torture. He clasped 
his hands and cried out : 

^^0 God, Thou hast branded me as a ^Fugitive 
and a Vagabond.^ I am lost, lost, lost. My God, 
my God, ^My punishment is greater than I can 
bear.’ ” 


CAIN. 


293 


CHAPTER XXII. 

Mamie was in the drawing-room arranging 
some cambric that had been carelessly wrinkled 
on the table. She had brought a clipping of 
beautiful flowers and placed them on the table in 
a beautiful vase. When she had smoothed the 
cambric on the little table she took a spray of 
narcissus from the bouquet and looked sadly into 
its beautiful petals where lurked a single dew- 
drop. Her heart ached and bled for the poor 
wretched soul of the man whose sad history she 
had just learned only the previous night. In an 
adjoining room Lilian was picking a guitar and 
singing a pretty, sad, farewell song. And as the 
music came wafted to her on limpid waves of 
rapturous strains Mamie’s eyes filled with tears 
as she looked vacantly at the beautiful flower she 
held in her hand. She thought of the beautiful 
Greek youth. Narcissus, who was unaffected by 
love till to punish him for his unfeeling heart 
Nemesis caused him to fall in love with his own 
shadow in the water. How sad his fate. He 
pined awav till, when they came to bury him, 
they found only a flower in his stead. Though 
mythica] it may be, it very well illustrated her 
sad fate. Though unlike the youth in being de- 
void of affections, ^et how like his torture was 


294 


CAIN. 


his desolate heart which suffered deeply because 
it could not reach the idol it had so long yearned 
for. Oh, could she but pine away till only her 
spirit would remain in the beautiful garden of 
heaven as a flower typical of her purified and 
sanctified soul. How much better it would be 
than to suffer this mortal pain. 

The music ceased, and in a moment Lilian was 
standing by her governess with a radiant smile 
playing upon her face. 

^^Why, my dear governess, you have been cry- 
ing. What makes you so sad? Tell me. Oh, it 
makes my heart ache to see you sad. I have been 
wanting you to confide your secrets to me a long 
time, but I was too diffident to ask you.” She 
kissed her. 

“I think I have been sad for many years, Lil- 
ian. Do not trouble yourself, darling. I will be 
all right soon. You know it makes one sad when 
they realize that they will soon have to bid fare- 
well to the home they have learned to love.” 

“Why, we shall not leave till after Christmas. 
So cheer up and don’t be so melancholy.” 

“Oh, yes, Lilian, indeed, I must go away to- 
morrow. I cannot remain here any longer. I 
have reasons which compel me to leave imme- 
diately.” 

“Oh, so soon?” 

“Yes, I must be off to-morrow for the land of 
the benighted heathens. You shall accompany 
me as far as Washington, and there you will find 
your parents just returned from the East. I have 
written them that we will be there the latter part 
of this week,” 


CAIN. 


295 


'‘But you surely — Oh, there comes Mr. Cain.^^ 

Before Mamie could detain her Lillian had 
glided into the recess in the bay window over 
which draped the rich folds of satin curtains. 

Mr. Cain came into the room with the usual 
haughty air and with that cold rigid expression 
on his face. His eyes gleamed sarcastically and 
his voice rang with irony: 

"When Bacchus and Lucifer proclaim a feast, 
their vigils may become intoxicated and cease to 
keep watch over their sleeping gods. Nebuchad- 
nezzar and his people, in their height of gaiety 
and revelry were destroyed by the skilful Medo- 
Persian Army which crept into Nebuchadnezzar’s 
beautiful city of Babylon by the way of the 
Euphrates River, which had been carelessly left 
out of its course. Intoxication was the weak 
link that connected their glory with their doom. 

"But I have kept vigil over my fortresses for 
these many years. I have kept my mind clear of 
all infections of carelessness and negligence, and 
it has been strengthened by rigid experience. 

"I come to you with a question. Did you ever 
think that Leland Burnett would be rejected by 
the Lord and cast away as a "Vagabond of Nod" 9 
No, no, child, you never dared to entertain such a 
deplorable future. Nevertheless, I am the Leland 
Burnett who was a good pious Christian boy, but 
now is a fugitive turned away from the beautiful 
city of God. Often have I thought, when alone 
in my gloomy meditations, of the pure sweet 
spirit of Lilian Dillion and of the many happy 
hours we have spent together in holy Christian 
converse. Only God knows the many times I 


296 


CAIN. 


have wept to think that my terrible life would 
keep me forever from her. And how much more 
terrible and painful was my sorrow when I 
learned that she was my sister — my dear, sweet 
little sister. I would to God that I could take 
her in my arms now and tell her that I am her 
brother — that little brother that was taken away 
when he was just a child. But I cannot, oh, I 
cannot! Oh, the blessed child would be so sadly 
disappointed to know that I, so vile, so wretched 
and so cynical, am her brother. 0 God, spare her 
the mortification.” 

Just then the curtains rustled, a trembling 
wail issued from behind them and then stepped 
forth the trembling child, Lilian, whose beautiful 
face was white with sudden sorrow and whose 
eyes gleamed with a strange delight mingled with 
sadness. For a moment she stood before him in 
speechless wonder, then fell upon her knees and 
threw her arms around his neck and cried : 

^^Oh, Mr. Cain ! the long-lost Leland — my own 
dear brother! Then I can love you now with a 
fearless, shameless, everlasting love. Oh, I can 
hardly realize that the dear boy who taught me 
to love Jesus is my own dear brother. And, 
0 Leland, why are you so cold-hearted and sin- 
ful? You who once were — ” He smothered her 
words as he pressed her face against his heart. 
His passionate tears fell upon her beautiful tresses 
while a holy silence fell over the room. 

Then she gently drew away from him and 
placed her trembling little hand in his. 

^^Brother, do you love me?” 

^‘Yes, sister, I have always loved you. In dia- 


CAIN. 


297 


guise I have endangered mj^self more than once 
to get only a pleasant look ‘ at you. When you 
would have scorned me with bitterest disdain had 
I told you that I was your brother. 

‘‘Lilian, I have suffered, but 

the sweet reward of dangers past! 

How lovely, through the tears 

That speak your heart's overflowing joy, 

your sweet love and affections appear. The world 
has been cruel; I have been stubborn and obsti- 
nate; but, thank God, I am myself again.” 

Mamie left the room quietly, leaving Leland 
and Lilian alone. Leland briefly told Lilian all 
his sad history of his sinful, gloomy life. 

It was raining a little when Burnett rode down 
the avenue from the stables and stopped in front 
of the mansion’s front door. He was talking in 
undertones to Paix. Mamie watched him from 
an upper window and a deeper, stranger yearn- 
ing than she had ever felt before seized her heart, 
and she burst into passionate grief. Soon that 
beautiful face, that commanding form and those 
passionate, magnetic eyes would go away for- 
ever and she should see them never more. She 
looked long and earnestly and the bitter tears 
streamed over her cheeks as her passionate heart 
beat sullenly and pleaded for its idol. Oh, she 
felt that she could not give him up forever. 

He smiled for a moment, then his handsome 
face grew more stern, till a strange pallor, the 
signal of defeat, and a deeper unknown anguish, 
crept across his features. As if conscious of her 


298 


CAIN. 


eager yearning gaze down upon him he looked up 
and smiled persuasively. 

^^Mamie, won’t you come down and tell me 
good-by before you go away?” 

A sweet smile was her response, and soon she 
was holding his hand, paying her parting respects 
to him whose wretched heart possessed hers, 
though it be 

^'Crushed in its ruins to die/* 

‘^Good-by, Mr. Burnett.” 

Her eyes were full of tears in spite of herself 
as she looked into his, which were only brilliant 
and tearless with a tinge of hope still lingering 
in their passionate depths. 

^^Good-by, Mamie. You have my hearty wish 
that the result of your mission to the heathens 
will result in much good.” 

^^Thank you, Leland. I certainly appreciate 
your valuable interest in my success.” 

have already spoken my parting words to 
Lilian; and now, my beautiful black Canadian, 
carry your master to the gaming regions of the 
wilds ; for there he seeketh to rest him in the deep 
tranquillity of its voiceless solitudes. There his 
depraved spirit findeth temporary satisfaction.” 

He touched his black steed on his arched neck 
and soon he was traveling down toward the Baby- 
lon gate. 

Mamie watched him till the woodland hid him 
forever, then turned sadly away. 

The carriage was soon ready to carry the ladies 
to the village station, where they were to board 
the train which was to carry them away. 


CAIN. 


299 


It was a severe trial for Mrs. Harwell to bid 
them good-by; yet she came forward and kissed 
them and caught them in one long embrace. 

Then they hurriedly got into the carriage and 
were driven away. As the carriage was about to 
disappear around the woodland they signaled a 
farewell with their handkerchiefs, and “Geth- 
semane’^ disappeared. 

The weather was inclement, and the first few 
days of their journey were very disagreeable. But 
during the latter part of their journey, and espe- 
cially east of the Mississippi river, the weather 
was bright and pleasant. 

When the train arrived at Washington, Mr. 
Billion was there with his carriage, waiting to 
receive them and take them home. 

We can only imperfectly imagine how great 
was their joy at meeting. 

Having trusted his daughter to the care and 
teaching of Miss Homean he was filled with much 
joy to meet her once more. Not every great gen- 
tleman will trust his precious child to one so un- 
known as Mamie was to Mr. Billion, without 
some doubtless degree of evidence that she is 
trustworthy and honorable. Hence his special 
joy at greeting her. A short drive found them at 
the old home, and after they were once in the 
house another scene of felicity ensued. Only those 
who have been mothers know the joy there is in 
meeting a precious sweet child who has been ab- 
sent so long. Mrs. Billion experienced such hap- 
piness when she once more clasped her darling 
child to her heart. 

^^Oh, Lilian, my child, heaven could not make 


300 


CAIN. 


me happier than I am to see you. Why, child, 
you have grown so beautiful. The mountain cli- 
mate must be wholesome for you. Just look at 
those fresh blushes on her cheeks, and oh, those 
charming dimples.’’ 

She then turned to Miss Homean, and scarcely 
less was the display of happy greeting with her. 

‘^May the blessings of heaven rest upon you. 
You have transformed my child into an angel. 
You have not lost the loveliness that graced your 
person when you last resided with us. But, child, 
there is a strange pensiveness in those beautiful 
brown eyes; what sorrow is it that lurks there? 
But perhaps it is the weary of your long journey 
that makes you look that way. Be seated here 
and let’s indulge ourselves with a delightful con- 
versation, and after a while I will have the maid 
to show you to your rooms.” 

Then an hour or more was spent in the way 
suggested. After a while Lilian became indiffer- 
ent to the conversation and sat quietly as if 
dreaming. Mrs. Billion watched her and she saw 
tears slowly gathering in her eyes and her lips 
moved as if she were about to say something. 

Lilian looked up presently and caught the 
earnest, sympathetic gaze of her mother, and she 
smiled. 

^^Mamma, I don’t need the maid to show me to 
my room. I haven’t forgotten my dear childhood 
home yet. I want to go alone. You may enter- 
tain Mamie while I am gone.” 

Her voice uttered these words in a low, clear 
accent, and amid the venturing tears a charming 
smile was shining. 


CAIN. 


301 


She left her mother and her governess in the 
drawing-room and softly stole her way across the 
corridor to the staircase, which she ascended like 
a nimble-limbed feline. She paused at the head 
of the stairs to listen to the melancholy song 
which she heard an old servant, Aunt Julia, sing- 
ing in the dining-room below. It w^as an old 
song that she used to hear sung before she went 
away to ‘^Gethsemane.^’ She brushed away the 
tears that trickled down her cheeks and went on 
into the room where she had spent so many hap- 
py hours with Leland as they talked of Jesus 
and his love. She fell upon her knees by the lit- 
tle table where she had bowed so often to pray. 
She wept and prayed for Leland; she prayed for 
her governess ; she prayed long and earnestly 
that they might be rescued from the perilous ca- 
tastrophe that was sure to devolve upon them. 
There she held communion with Jesus and in- 
dulged herself with the sorrowful meditation of 
memories of her dear, wicked brother. It was an 
hour of mingled bliss and bitterness. 

It was some time before Lilian ventured to tell 
her mother the strange story of Leland. It was 
a pretty, clear morning when Lilian told her the 
sad story. The mother was astonished. 

‘‘Tell me, Lilian, where he is. Tell me all. Oh, 
do not deceive me ! Is my little child still alive ?” 

“Why, mamma, his own testimony, confirmed by 
other convincing evidence, proves that he is indeed 
your son — my brother. Oh, mamma, I have known 
him for a year or more and I have learned to love 
him. But I did not know that he was my brother 
till a short time ago. Mamma, he is so beautiful, 


302 


CAIN. 


but he has fallen into the depths of sin. He has 
been so cruelly treated and it has caused him to 
grow wicked. He has a wonderfully cultured in- 
tellect.” 

‘‘Oh, Lilian, tell me where he is?” 

“He is the man who owns ‘Gethsemane.’ ” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes, quite sure, mamma. He has been terri- 
bly wicked, but he loves my governess, and her 
pure guileless soul has touched his hardened 
heart; and now you ought to see him cry when 
he realizes that he can never claim her as his 
own. He knows that the affection she entertains 
for him is stronger than death, but she has denied 
him the happy privilege of sharing her love. My 
governess is obstinate in her refusal, and I am 
afraid Leland will sink deeper into sin in his 
opelessness. Mamma, we must pray for him 
while he lives alone in his far-away secluded 
mountain home. He has no hope to sustain him. 
Since he has lost his loved one he feels deserted, 
lost and ruined forever.” 

Mrs. Dillion was silent. Her precious child 
still lived. When should she see him? Why had 
he estranged himself from his dear mother so 
long? Would he come to her if she sent for him, 
or would he feel as one afraid to encounter the 
reproachful eyes of a good mother? All these 
questions entered her mind while she wept. Lil- 
ian caressed the mother’s face as it lay upon her 
bosom and she tried to console her with tender 
words of endearment, but the sorrowing mother 
continued to weep bitterly. 

“Mamma, he has not always been wicked, for 


CAIN. 


303 


lie is tlie man Leland who resided with us when I 
was a little child, and since then he has been a 
confirmed mundivagrant over the face of the 
earth.” 

The mother listened with pain and anxiety while 
Lilian continued the strange sad story of Leland’s 
life. When she closed the narrative she said in a 
far-away, dreamy tone: 

'^Mamma, I loved him when he lived with us; 
I loved him when he taught me the story of 
Jesus; and I love him, oh, Jesus only knows how 
much, yet.” 

They were silent. Lilian looked through the 
window and saw the bend and rebend of a blos- 
som. How soon its beauty would wither under 
the blast of coming winter. How surely its brief 
existence and imposing beauty and its inevitable 
fate were typical of human life! 


« 


804 


CAIN. 


CHAPTER XXIIl. 

Mamie was on her way back from Chicago, 
where she had been visiting one of her old school- 
mates who had left Nashville to reside in Chi- 
cago. She was looking out through the car win- 
dow at the rare landscapes that flitted past her, 
and she thought how soon she would have to go 
away on her mission to the heathens. It was so 
sad to part with loving intimate friends, but she 
always tried to overcome the sadness with the en- 
thusiastic anticipation of the pleasure she would 
derive from her labors among these benighted 
people. What a thrilling inspiration it would be 
to be able to point out to some benighted soul the 
blessed Christ, the Saviour of the world. As she 
was to take charge of a class of pupils in one of 
the prominenet schools for training the children 
she would rejoice to have the blessed privilege to 
take their tender lives into her charge and, as if 
caring for some particular collection of delicate 
flowers, train them up to live beautiful Christian 
lives. 

These were the thoughts that made her heart 
glad as she journeyed to Washington. 

Mr. and Mrs. Dillion were waiting for her at 
the depot when she arrived, and they took her into 
their carriage and started swiftly home. 


CAIN. 


305 


'T/ilian is crazy to see you, Miss Homean/^ 
said Mrs. Dillion, as they turned into Pennsyl- 
vania avenue. “She has something to tell you.” 

“Delightful news, I hope,” answered Mamie 
dreamily. “I would rather you would call me 
Mamie, Mrs. Dillion. We are old friends, you 
know.” 

Mrs. Dillion smiled and murmured dreamily: 
*'Mamie, Mamie/' then turned to the governess 
and kissed her. “I have always wanted to call 
you by that sweet name.” 

They were silent some minutes. Mamie loved 
the good woman because she was Leland’s mother. 
Now Leland’s mother would call her Mamie. But 
she was sad somehow; why? She sighed and 
lifted a book which she had brought along with 
her. 

“I have a copy of Longfellow’s poems which I 
shall present to Lilian to-morrow as a birthday 
gift; you know she will celebrate her fifteenth an- 
niversary ?” 

“Yes, the dear little child is anticipating a 
happy celebration.” 

The carriage stopped and the party stepped 
out, and while Mr. Dillion gave the driver orders 
to put away the horses and carriage Mamie and 
Mrs. Dillion went on into the flowery lawn that 
stretched out a narrow margin in front of Mr. 
Dillion’s beautiful home. 

Mamie was somewhat disappointed, for she ex- 
pected to meet Lilian running to greet her. In- 
stead, all was silence in the great house. 

They met Euth coming to them with swollen 
eyes and a look of horror on her face. 


§6^ CAIN. 

Mrs. Dillon/’ she cried, ^^she is gon6, 
gone 

^^What is the trouble, Euth? Who is gone? 
Tell me quick !” demanded Mrs. Dillion with 
great anxiety and astonishment. 

^Tiilian is gone! 0, the sweet child Lilian! 
He took her away — Oh, she’ll never come back 1” 

Mamie and Mrs. Dillion looked at each other 
in amazement. 

Mamie ran off into Lilian’s room to find her 
there; for surely it seemed that she would be 
there to welcome her. 

^^ho took my child ?” cried Mrs. Dillion 
fiercely with a dark angry look in her dark In- 
dian eyes. 

'^Oh, Mrs. Dillion, I didn’t know him. He had 
his face masked. He rushed into the room where 
Lilian was reading and took her in his arms and 
held her fast till he got into his closed dark car- 
riage with her, then he drove off down the street 
at a wild gallop. Oh, she’s gone ! My sweet lit- 
tle playmate. Oh ” she sobbed bitterly. 

Mrs. Dillion, filled with rage and distraction, 
hurried about to find Mr. Dillion whom she found 
in his library and she briefly told the horror to 
him. Then in a few minutes the news was flying 
over the city as fast as electricity would trans- 
port it. This done, Mr. Dillon hurried away 
to make preparations for a thorough search for 
his child. He entertained the hope that it was 
a case of kidnapping; for then he could easily 
pay the price of redemption for his child. But 
if she had been stolen maliciously without mer- 


CAIN. 


3or 

cenary purpose he knew that perhaps he would 
never see his child again. 

Mrs. Dillon fell into a swoon, so great was her 
distress, but Mamie managed to revive her at last, 
and when she looked up at Mamie she smiled 
sadly. 

‘^Mamie, we may never see her again, but I am 
satisfied that wherever she is taken, whatever in- 
fluence she may come under, and whatever pain 
and suffering may torture her, she will never, no, 
never, forsake the Christ which Leland and her 
good governess taught her to love.” 

Mamie could not restrain the tears that strove 
to fill her eyes when she thought of the poor stolen 
child, and the mention of Leland’s name touched 
her with painful memories and over the mournful 
past her grieved heart wandered like some weird 
phantom wandering along the dreary shores of 
haunted seas. While she thus viewed the sorrow- 
ful past, she saw love stabbed to continual bleed- 
ing by the cold steel dagger of modem infidelity 
and skepticism, and though ‘‘Love is stronger 
than death,” her heart with one other was sacri- 
ficed and lay bleeding upon the altar of a wretched 
life. 

She looked at Mrs. Dillion with a look of more 
than earthly pain, and answered as only hopeful 
Christians can answer: 

“We shall meet her up yonder in the sweet by 

and by. And Leland ? Oh !” She fell 

down upon her knees sobbing violently. Mrs. 
Dillion caressed her and endeavored to sooth her, 
but she sobbed and wept on. 

When Mamie first knew that she kaved the maQ 


808 


CAIN. 


whom she knew then as Mr. Cain, she knew that 
her love was useless and hopeless, and she had en- 
deavored to strangle it; but her efforts had been 
in vain. And now, would she make one more 
effort to forget the handsome face, the magnetic 
eyes of that powerful man of ^^Gethsemane” ? Oh, 
could she do this? No, no, it was foolish to en- 
tertain such an idea. She must be resigned and 
live on through this vale of tears and loneliness 
till she should be gathered up among the angels. 

Day after day passed and the lonely father and 
sad, broken-hearted mother heard no news of their 
child. But Mr. Dillion indulged in the most ex- 
travagant hopes that the child would be rescued, 
while the mother apprehended something serious 
would happen to the dear child, and that there 
was no probability of her return. She had been 
bereft of one precious child, and now some 
stealthy demon had stolen the only child she had 
left to make her life happy. 

Meanwhile, the day arrived for Mamie to make 
her departure for the far-away land of paganism. 
After the necessary preparation, she joined the 

Foreign Missionary Society at M and after 

a few hours sailing she found herself looking out 
upon the wide unbounded prospect of ocean waste. 
She saw the deep-green crested waves roll placidly 
away to a distant horizon which seemed to sink 
into the dark unfathomable ocean. 

One day she stood upon the deck and was look- 
ing at the skies and the sun; for they were the 
only things of nature with which she was familiar. 
The green waters which spread out beneath her 
feet to distances unknown was something unknown 


CAIN. 309 

to her. It filled her with vague apprehensions of 
danger. 

She looked up from the deep ocean and looked 
at the sun again as its rolled its luminous chariot 
far above land and sea. She gazed at it and a 
series of w^andering pleasant thoughts flitted 
across her memory. That sun was the same 
friendly sun that had shone upon her in a country 
where the days lasted weeks and weeks; and it 
was the same sun that had shone upon her while 
she wandered a friendless being over the plains 
and mountains of Australia; and when she sat 
watching its many-colored - reflections and spec- 
trum on the leaping waters of the Katoomba falls. 

While she gazed upward a large white bird 
sailed slowly over from the rear of the great ship 
and seemed to flop its wings in ecstasy over the 
deck where she stood ; and as the great ship 
plowed its way onward through the waves, this 
great bird kept its position and distance over the 
deck. Mamie wondered at its strange move- 
ments. And yet there was something familiar 
about it. 

It was a strange bird. She asked some of her 
friends what kind of a bird it was, and they in- 
formed her that it was the great sea albatross. 
Mamie looked long and sorrowfully at the great 
white bird. Soon tears began to trickle down her 
cheeks as her memory drifted back to sweet child- 
hood when she roamed the field and the forests, 
over hills and valleys, and along the banks of the 
grand old Cumberland river, with her beloved 
Royal King Felix as her only companion. Many 
happy days tlrey had played together around that 


310 


CAIN. 


beautiful old home, now so far away. She 
thought of Mr. Homean’s workbench, the old 
woodshop, the little spring down near the river, 
the large spreading apple-tree down near the 
brook, and the old cistern that stood by the front 
entrance. All these memories made her sad and 
yet there was a strange sweetness about the sacred 
memory. 

The great ship steamed on nearer and nearer to 
the shores of Oriental land of Paganism. 

* * ♦ * * * ♦ 

After the lapse of nearly a year what might be 
going on around hidden ‘^Gethsemane’^ and with 
its lonely master, his aunt, and his friend Paix? 

Poor old patient Mrs. Harwell went her daily 
round rendering her daily services. Her fine 
fiock of Norwegian sheep and her yard of excel- 
lent various-blooded chickens and many other 
curious and beautiful fowls were her objects of 
greatest pride and care. Her life was indeed a 
life of sadness and loneliness since Mamie and 
Lilian had gone away. Yet, in her loneliness, 
she did not fail to notice the great change that 
was coming over her nephew. Hour after hour 
he would sit by the fire in the sitting-room and 
while Paix would be jabbering lively with Mrs. 
Harwell as she would be embroidering or knitting 
fine hosiery, he would be gazing into the fire as 
if some great burden were bearing down upon his 
mind. 

The people of ‘^Lonely Vicinity” continued to 
worship in the great ‘Temple of Ariadne.” By 
this time a strong and progressive membership 
had been organized. The Sunday-school, which 


CAIN. 


311 


Mamie Homean had founded, contributed a large 
amount every Sunday to the Missionary Fund. 

Mamie had appointed a young man, Mr. Omar 
Lindauer, to succeed her as Sunday-school Su- 
perintendent, and under his management the 
Sunday-school continued to make rapid progress. 
He wrote Mamie every month, informing her of 
the success of ‘^Gethsemane,'^ and all of its sur- 
roundings. 

It was a beautiful night in September, and the 
lurid sky hung her mysterious host of twinkling 
constellations above slumbering hills and valleys. 
The moon lingered far out in space like a haughty 
monarch of the universe. Its effulgence was the 
same soft, mild, still light which it always yields 
to the darkened earth, and it served to dispel the 
darkness of this particular night. 

“To-night the lonely master of “Gethsemane’’ 
and his friend Paix sat upon an old time-worn 
stone bench on the top of that high peak which 
overlooks the village, the “Gethsemane recluse,” 
and the “Temple of Ariadne.” 

They looked down the gloomy distance and 
through the mystic maze of moonlight the white 
outline of “Gethsemane” could be faintly seen. 
In the far distance the village electric lights shone 
like a thousand lowered constellations hovered 
over some sacred place. The great white campa- 
nile of the Temple stood out against the dark- 
ness like some frightful ghost of dark-hollow- 
night origin; and far down the slope to the left 
a few pale lights shone glimmeringly in a few 
homes in “Lonely Vicinity” — a few only who 
labor till late hours and some who prolong the 


312 


CAIN. 


telling of legendary tales till these dreary hours. 

Leland and Paix were conversing in that low 
tone that awes one as if some dark secret were 
being revealed. 

^‘It is this way, mon cher. I am a rambler and 
it is the spirit of adventure that has led me over 
rugged dark mountains and through wild dun- 
geons and unfrequented places.”, 

^Terhaps that is true, Paix; but doubtless you 
are aware that I have wandered over the world 
more than you have. It was not the spirit of ad- 
venture, however, that pushed me out, but a rest- 
less spirit was driving me mad and I endeavored 
to flee from it, and I was driven by it over the 
world, a confirmed mundivagrant.” 

''Mon Deiu! hopeless, restless spirit driving 
you mad?” 

“Yes, Paix. I have never told you, though, 
never mind, I will tell you some day.” 

Leland went slowly down the steep mountain 
to his home. The cool midnight breezes hummed 
away among the autumn leaves and the moonlight 
spread out before him like some elaborate ex- 
panse of extravagantly diffused silvery sprays. 
The mournful voice of a whippoorwill fell upon 
the wafting breezes and its melancholy strains 
seemed to harmonize with the dreary, lonely, 
grief-stricken impulses of his aching heart. He 
at last made the descent and entered quietly into 
his Babylon gate. Only his fierce dog disturbed 
the perfect hush with his deep basso-re-pieno bark 
at his master’s intrusion. 

As Leland was about to step upon the granite 
doorsteps there stood his aunt in the doorway. 


CAIN. 


313 


Aunt Nettie, why are you out so late?’’ 

^^Child, if you knew how often I have stood 
here in this doorway and waited and watched and 
listened, aye, prayed for your returning footsteps, 
then you would realize why I am standing here 
to-night.” 

‘‘But you should not expose yourself in such a 
manner. Why, I always return; and if I should 
not return some time, what would it matter? I 
am only a frail member of this mysterious exist- 
ence and I think it would gratify the heartless 
desire of the Fates if I were to fall a victim to 
their wTath some time while I am taking my noc- 
turnal predatory raids and scouts. Come, auntie, 
you must not tarry here longer.” 

He took her arm and helped her up the steps 
and into the house. 

Leland went into the neat little room which had 
formerly belonged to Mamie. He kissed the lit- 
tle pillow where her sweet face and beautiful 
brown tresses had lain so many times in sweetst 
slumbers. He stood there and wondered at its 
beautiful draperies and its costly furniture. All 
these beautiful furnishings had been arranged by 
Mamie. As he stood thus observing he thought 
of the beautiful soul that once enjoyed those lux- 
uries. Even her presence had made it a holy 
sanctuary. The very air seemed as if it were the 
sacred realms of heaven. 

He took a seat in a chair by the little table and 
bowed his head over the place where her Bible 
had lain many a day. He began back at the 
earlier days of their association and carefully, and 
with mingled pleasure and sadness, rehearsed in 


814 


CAIN. 


his memory every good event, every good word, 
and every noble act of her life. Somehow he be- 
gan to weep — he knew not why — and continued 
to weep till his broken heart felt relief. For 
more than an hour he remained in this bowed at- 
titude. Was he praying? 

The moon was fair to-night and its light 
streamed in upon him. Perhaps it was the hoi}' 
hour of spiritual mediation and communion. His 
dreary heart and desolate soul suffered agonies too 
great for feeble words to express. 

As he sat bowed in silent anguish his dis- 
tressed spirit could have cried out: 

"0, restless heart and fevered brain! unquiet 
and unstable. 

That holy well of Loch Maree is more than idle 
fable! 

The shadow of a humble will and contrite heart 
are o'er it: 

Go read its legend — 'Trust in God' — on Faith's 
white stones before it!" 


Cain, 


315 


CHAPTER XXIV. 

One beautiful Sabbath morning the silvery 
rays of the moon seemed to linger over the dewy 
altars of the mountain. The tiny moonbeams 
silvered the foliage of the dense mountain silva, 
and rapturous strains of music burst from a 
thousand tiny silvery throats. The white spot- 
less lilies bent and rebounded with perfect grace 
as the breezes passed them; the narcissus and 
hollyhocks nodded under their burden of dew; 
and the fragrant roses smiled through their dewy 
tears. All nature seemed to be awakening to the 
beauties of a new day. That morning exhilara- 
tion that pervades the dewy landscapes and in- 
spires the early traveler with nature’s wonderful 
thoughts now brooded over hill and valley. The 
crimson canvas of the Orient spread out its sheet 
across the eastern skies; and soon there appeared 
the burning orb of the sun over the horizon line 
and the whole world woke with the gladness and 
the song of a new bright Sabbath day. 

At nine-thirty o’clock the happy Sunday- 
iichool band had gathered promptly and cheer- 
fully on time. There were about two hundred 
enrolled besides officers and teachers. And it was 
a happy band indeed. 

The organ murmured the last receding note of 


316 


CAIN. 


the sacred opening hymn and the school bowed 
while prayer was being conducted. When the 
prayer was concluded, lo! the great master of 
^^Gethsemane’^ and builder of the magnificent ba- 
silica entered and w^alked slowly down the aisle. 
As a compliment as well as a display of cordial 
welcome, the organist sounded a brief prelude and 
wandered off into a sweet pathetic welcome refrain 
as he walked like a king down the aisle and took 
his seat in an empty pew. This was the first time 
he had visited the Sunday-school since the mem- 
orable day when he was touched by the holy spirit 
that shone in the beautiful face of Mamie and his 
dear sister Lilian when they sang and played the 
beautiful sacred songs of Jesus and his love. 

The close observer looking at him as he sat 
in his pew could discern that a peculiar change 
had come over him since the day of the dedication- 
Yes, a change had begun its altering work; but 
that gloomy, desolate scowl still lingered on his 
brow. 

He listened with bowed head to the beautiful 
songs of the wonderful inspiration of the lesson; 
and its golden text stole into his desolate soul. 
It lingered in his mind and he heard its sacred 
echoes repeated over and over again in his heart. 

“Blessed are the pure in heart.’^ 

When Sunday-school was over the Superintend- 
ent announced the presence of Mr. Cain, the 
owner and architect of the beautiful basilica, and 
cordially requested that he should address the 
Sunday-school. 

For a moment Leland was bewildered. He hesi- 
tated ; then as if a divine call had come to him, he 


CAIN. 


317 


rose from his pew with an impulse of inspiration 
and faced the audience. Many months, aye, many 
years had passed since he had stood the last time 
before a vast audience and preached to them the 
divine exultations of his divinely spiritual soul. 
Then he delighted in it and felt free to speak his 
great thoughts. But now ! He was a desolate 
wretch whose very perverted presence profaned the 
sanctity of God’s house. Why should he be ex- 
pected to address such an audience? 

He began at first with calmness but soon he 
almost broke down. The unparalleled kindness of 
these people overcame him. He wept while he 
talked and he could hardly control his voice. He 
had not thought that such kindness could exist in 
the hearts of men. 

From an humble, sad, contrite tone he drifted 
higher, and his face began to shine as if catch- 
ing the lustre of a wonderful inspiration. His 
soul seemed to cease holding converse with com- 
moner thoughts to catch a strain of something 
celestial and fly away on fancy’s wings to hold 
communion with the glorious majesty of things 
sublime. 

The audience was breathless while he spoke. 
His eloquence was grand; his imagery was won- 
derful to contemplate. He painted picture after 
picture of the joys and beauties of life till the 
whole glad earth would feign have shouted the 
praises of his masterful language. He told that 
Love was absolute king of all kingdoms and would 
reign forever. He continued his grand discourse 
for more than an hour; and when he ceased, he 
bowed to the audience, and hurriedly left the 


318 


CAIN. 


church. A loud and enthusiastic cheer and ap- 
plause praised him with expressive approbation as 
he buried away. He hurried toward his home with 
d heart beating wildly with a strange enthusiasm. 
He could not tell why he had yielded to that call 
to talk to those people. He was bewildered and 
felt glad that he had spoken. But he hurried on 
till at last, Oh fatal memory ! he paused upon the 
little brown bridge and looked down upon what? 
The dark clouded stain where issued the blood of 
an innocent heart — the victim of his wrath. He 
fell upon his knees and bowed his face to the 
ground. 0 could he ever pray? How hard his 
heart seemed. His very soul seemed dead ; his 
thoughts seemed to be desperately centered upon 
the awful scene of murder, and instead of seeing 
one faint star of hope — the light of everlasting 
life — he could only see that dreary ghastly spectre 
of a murdered woman. He could repent and had 
repented ; but how could he ever approach his God ? 
Could he ever make sufficient atonement? While 
he spoke to the Sunday-school congregation his 
soul became happy as it had been in other brighter 
days. He forgot his awful crime in the joys of the 
occasion; but now this dark blood stain mocked 
him and his soul lost all its sweetness. God 
seemed to withdraw from him there; the world 
seemed to retract with disdain ; the sun and skies 
and all the glories of the day frowned and scowled 
over him; and nothing dared to venture near his 
polluted person except the reproachful, grim, 
ghastly spirit of the woman he murdered. 

He remained in that penitent posture for more 
than an hour, then raised his head and looked va- 


CAIN. 


319 


cantly about him. His face was pale; his eyes 
shone with a feverish light; and that habitual 
scowl rested above his brows. 

He rose to his feet, drew his hat down over 
his eyes, and wandered away toward “XfOnely 
Vicinity.^' 


» 


320 


CAIN. 


CHAPTEE XXV. 

After two fortnights of absence, Paix returned 
to ^^Gethsemane.” His keen eyes still retained 
their mischievous sparkle; and he joined the fam- 
ily circle again with his wonderful stories of ad- 
venture. 

Meanwhile he never became so absorbed in his 
exciting narratives as not to notice the wonderful 
change in his friend Cain. 

Leland had kept secret the sweet story of his 
redemption, as if it were too sacred to reveal. 
But his manner of living slightly disclosed a 
change of some kind. 

Day after day went on in untiring journey. 
The sweet summer was gone. The last few days 
were calm and tranquil; and all nature slum- 
bered and dreamed in perfect peace under the all- 
pervading influence of the sedative Morpheus. The 
little mountain creek seemed to creep over the 
falls, as if afraid to disturb the calm repose of 
the slumbering landscapes. The dull murmur of 
its fall could scarcely be heard. It flowed on 
through the valley tardily, loitering with the sun- 
beams that shot their piercing fire-spears into its 
bosom. 

One of those quiet evenings, near sunset, Le- 
land reclined in his easy chair, reading the Nash- 


C I N . 


321 


ville American. He was sitting on the front por- 
tico of his splendid mansion, where he could al- 
low his eyes to wander occasionally from the 
paper and to look out upon the western landscape 
where the brilliant sun poured from his burning 
beaker streams of ineffable effulgence upon the 
dreaming world. 

The sun neared the horizon, and paused on the 
brow of a distant hill, seeming to linger en- 
tranced at the low, gentle requiem that mur- 
mured among the breeze-swayed branches of the 
Kocky Mountain forest. 

A pleasant memory broke upon Leland’s mind: 
he thought of the olive brow of that Palestine hill 
where he had stood one late afternoon, watching 
the setting of the receding sun, which was per- 
haps just then rising over the hills of ^^Geth- 
semane.” 

He thought half-dreamily of the beautiful, 
sweet, pensive-faced girl he had met long ago by 
the little spring. He lifted his hand to brush away 
the tears, when he caught sight of a carriage 
drawn by two white liveries coming hurriedly 
across the little brown bridge. It was lost for 
a moment behind a clump of trees in a small hol- 
low; then in another moment it halted at the 
Hades gate. 

The fierce dog leaped and snarled and howled 
fiercely around the stake to which he was hitched. 
Leland dropped his paper into his chair and hur- 
ried down to the gate to offer them a welcome to 
his home if they so desired. When he had 
opened the gate, the driver inquired of him ; 
‘^Sir, is this the ^Gethsemane’ mansion 


322 


CAIN. 


“Yes, sir,” was the cool reply. 

“Then I have brought some visitors who de- 
sire to lodge with you as guests for a few days.” 

He paused a moment, then resumed: “I hope 
there will be no intrusion on their part?” 

Knowing the strange seclusion and privacy for 
which the beautiful hidden mansion had been re- 
vered, the driver entertained some probability of 
an intrusion. Cain smiled amusedly as he 
glanced at the rear of the carriage. 

“Why, certainly not, my friends. I shall be 
glad to have you in my home. Get out; I cor- 
dially welcome you.” 

The curtains were drawn back, and two ladies 
were assisted from the carriage; then the gentle- 
man accompanying them stepped out. 

“My name is Herman,” said the gentleman as 
he shook Leland’s hand. “May I ask yours?” 

“Cain is mine,” responded Leland. 

“Of course we are delighted to have met each 
other ?” 

“Thanks, perfectly.” 

Mr. Herman turned to the ladies and pre- 
sented him to them with the common formula. 
Cain remarked: “I am pleased to have such dis- 
tinguished guests as you all with me. I know 
your wife and you by your distinguished posi- 
tion in the professional world, and I know Mrs. 
Dillion by her marked and noted superiority in 
the ranks of society.” 

The company bowed in grateful appreciation of 
his complimentary recognition of their titles, and 
followed their host into the house. On enter- 


CAIN. 


323 


ing the drawing-room, Cain found his aunt, to 
whom he introduced them respectively. 

When Mrs. Harwell’s eyes met the tearful, 
happy gaze of Mrs. Billion, a sudden recognition 
flew into her memory, and she threw her arms 
around Mrs. Billion’s neck and cried out, with ex- 
ceeding joyfulness in her trembling voice: 

“Oh ! Annie ! My only dear sister ! Have I 
found you at last? Can it be that you are yet 
alive ?” 

“This is Annie. There is surely something 
wonderful in the love and tender mercies of God, 
for through His kind providence we have been 
permitted to meet again. 0, blessed be His holy 
name for this happy meeting !” 

They remained in each others’ arms for only 
a short time ; then, with one affectionate kiss, they 
vsdthdrew and took their seats with the others. 
Mr. Herman entertained them with his well- 
selected humor and wit, and the moments went 
swiftly, while supper was being prepared for the 
tired travelers. 

Cain enjoyed the pleasant jokes of his noble 
guest, and laughed and talked gleefully with him ; 
the ladies chattered away in their all-important 
conversation. 

Once Cain stole a glance at Mrs. Billion, to 
And her earnest gaze flxed upon his face. He 
reverted his glance to beautiful Mrs. Herman, 
and his face flushed. After a short time he de- 
parted to his own quiet chamber. There he sat 
in his easy chair, with his head bowed on one 
hand, which shadowed his eyes. There he medi- 
tated and pondered. What strange motive brought 


324 


CAIN. 


his mother to his own home that he had kept hid- 
den from her so long? Did she really recognize 
her own son? Yes, he was sure she did. But 
why had they sought his lonely habitation? 

He had been estranged from his mother so long 
that scarcely did any of his childhood affection 
for her remain. But now, since he had caught 
the sweetness of her loving eyes again, his heart 
began to cherish fond memories of the day when 
she wept over him and kissed him, with that 
never-dying love for him in her heart. Her gaze 
at him in the drawing-room lingered with him, 
and he thought of other happier days when such 
fond looks made his little heart glad ; and as he 
mused on he began to love Mother again. He 
wept. While he thus sat pondering, a servant 
came to his room and announced : 

“Mrs. Billion wishes to see Mr. Cain in her 
room.” 

He arose, closed his chamber-door, ascended 
the tall spiral staircase amid all its glory of a 
thousand darting reflections. Quietly he opened 
the half-open door of the apartment, and entered. 
Mrs. Billion reclined in a chair with her back 
to the door, and was unaware of his presence till 
he stood in front of her. 

He fell on his knees before her and, kissing 
her hands repeatedly, cried passionately: 

“0 mother, I have been wicked, but I have 
come back to Christ. Will you accept me as your 
son ?” 

Tears gathered in the proud mother’s eyes, 
and she arose and drew him gently to her bosom 
and kissed him. 


CAIN. 


325 


My son Leland, I have always claimed you. 
Oh, I would to God that you had never been 
thrown upon the cruel world. 0 Leland, do not 
leave me again. Oh, I am so lonely! I have no 
one to comfort me.’' 

Cain looked into her passionate, weeping eyes, 
in which he could depict a deep but unknown 
anguish. He wondered what she meant. 

‘^Where are father and sister? Are they no 
solace to you?” he asked, tenderly. 

For a moment Mrs. Billion could not speak. 
Her body shook with emotion. Then she told the 
sad story of her lost child — ^how she was kid- 
napped and carried away. Poor Leland, this was 
a terrible blow upon his sensitive nature; but he 
strove with mighty Christian power to suppress 
the raging spirit that had run riot so long. Again 
he was tempted to disbelieve the mercy and ex- 
istence of God. His inspiring Ebenezer seemed 
to crumble; and his vexed spirit struggled to cry 
out, “Hitherto the Lord hath cursed me instead 
of blessed me.” But at last he was conqueror. 

When his mother had finished the sad story, 
he said to her in a faltering tone: 

“Mother, I loved that child with a love that 
only the angels know. I have lived with her about 
two years, and I know that she has a spirit sweeter 
than the angels. I knew that she was nty sis- 
ter. She learned to love me, not as a lover, but 
with a love which she herself could not explain. 
She endeavored to keep her little childish affec- 
tions as her own sacred secret, but I knew that 
she loved me; and at last, through chance, she 
learned that I was her brother; then she fiew to 


326 


CAIN. 


me, threw her arms about my neck, and exclaimed 
in glee, ‘0 my brother, I can love you now !’ ” 

Mother and son talked on for some time, bring- 
ing up tender, sacred memories, and exchanging 
those affections which bind mother and child 
together in a unity that can never be broken. 

The summer-like night passed away, and the 
next morning was spent pleasantly in the draw- 
ing-room. 

Cain was alone in his room, earnestly meditat- 
ing the sad loss of his dear sister. He wept and 
prayed and mourned pitifully over the awful mis- 
fortune. He determined to find her at all cost. 
The moment his guests were gone he would bid 
farewell to old ^^Gethsemane,” and go away in 
quest of her. He would spend his great fortune 
and devote the remaining portion of his life in 
search of her. He had pledged his wealth and 
life to God; but he could never see the accom- 
plishment of his new purpose now since this sad 
misfortune. He was sad and gloomy in the 
thought that life would perhaps be forever 
fraught with painful misfortunes and destitute 
of the glorious Christian work he had so fondly 
cherished. As these thoughts touched his heart, 
he could scarcely suppress the tears that strove to 
fill his eyes. The evening was sad to him. He 
felt that perhaps he had been cruel to his mother 
by staying away from her so long. It was evident 
that she had been informed that he still lived im- 
mediately upon Lilian’s arrival in Washington; 
and who knows the anxiety of a loving mother 
who is longing to see her precious child who has 
been lost so long? And now, Lilian gone, she 


CAIN. 327 

had come to him, unable longer to bear the sus- 
pense. 

He rose and went into the parlor, where the 
guests were enjoying themselves in delightful 
conversation. 

^^0 mother,” he thought, as he entered and 
looked at her once with tender yearning, “surely 
Parcae and Moerae, the mythical goddesses who 
preside over human destiny, have turned their 
hand of destruction and misery and sorrow upon 
us ; for since the beautiful, cloudless morning 
of my youth, which was soon overshadowed with 
the gloom that has forever hovered over me, life 
has been a martyrdom to live !” 

After the ensuing night had passed, Mrs. Bil- 
lion entered Cain’s reading-room, to which he had 
repaired for a few moments. She began to plead: 

“I have come to you, my son, seeking your 
beautiful face once more, that I might grow 
young again. I want to beg of you to go with 
me and help me find Lilian. Now you must obey 
me through love. Mr. and Mrs. Herman will re- 
side here in this beautiful home and make your 
Aunt Nettie happy while we are gone. 0 Leland, 
my child, do not refuse me this one request !” 

“Mother, I am going away to-morrow, and, 
God being my helper, I shall some day find her 
and bring her back home again. But you cannot 
go with me. Your health will not admit of it. 
You must remain at home, and, with trust in 
God, wait patiently and faithfully till that happy 
day when she will be brought back to your bosom 
again.” 

“But perhaps I could help in some way. Oh, 


328 CAIN. 

if you would only let me go ! I cannot stay alone 
and 

^Absurd he interrupted kindly but firmly. 
“It would only terminate in the destruction of 
your health. Mother, you must not go.” 

“But she might be in the hands of some cruel 
villains who would not give her up,” she per- 
sisted ; “then I might intercede and infiuence 
such to take pity and relinquish my child.” 

“Never fear, mother; I can rescue her. It is 
a mistake for you to think of making such an at- 
tempt.” 

But the mother persisted, and without further 
argument they repaired to their respective apart- 
ments. 

Sanford, the hired boy, came presently with the 
morning mail, and as Leland unbound it and 
separated his mail from the other, he noticed one 
letter addressed to his aunt. He knew the hand- 
writing. It was from Mamie. His heart beat 
with painful throbs as he thought of Mamie, and 
then of the barriers that separated them forever. 

He bundled up his aunt’s letters with her jour- 
nals, and bade the boy deliver them. As he re- 
clined in his chair, looking over his mail, he 
stopped to listen and hear his aunt reading Ma- 
mie’s letter to Mrs. Billion and Mrs. Herman. 

Leland learned that Mamie was aeeomjdishing 
a great work among the heathen, that she was 
happy in her work, rejoicing in the hope of eter- 
nal life. She said that once in a while a sad and 
painful memory would overshadow her happy 
hours; then after the relief that comes from the 
shedding of tears, all was contentment again. 


CAIN. 


329 


The sweet letter closed without one single men- 
tion of his name. This wounded his sensitive 
heart. Well he knew what painful memory 
touched her restless spirit. 

He pressed his fingers to his aching eyes and 
throbbing temples. His memory traveled back 
over the cobble-stones of his past life; and here 
and there through the darkness and gloom 
through which his despondent life had passed, he 
saw and remembered the moments of brightness 
when the sunshine of Mamie’s pure soul fell upon 
his, buried in darkness, and left, implanted there, 
words of comfort, consolation, inspiration, sym- 
pathy, counsel and admonition, helping him on to 
a purer life. It was her pure life — these bits of 
sunshine — that had brought him back to Jesus. 
He thought of the sentiment contained in the 
little clipping of poetry he had found one day in 
her Bible; and he felt that the suggestion in it 
had not failed of recognition by the governess. 

A faint smile settled on his features, and half 
whispering to himself, slowly and dreamily he 
repeated the favorite poem: 

*'The human heart as a garden is. 

In sorrow's storm and drought of loveless years, 
Ranh weeds of hitter douht and discontent 
Spring up where seeds of strength and larger 
aim 

Would faint and fall for lack of sustenance. 
But yesterday, at your right hand there lay 
Some fallen soul wherein a timely word 
In years to come might hurst to rarest hloom 
And thrill the world-ways with its redolence; 


330 


CAIN. 


One cheering glance, one sympathetic smile. 
One friendly touch of closely clasping hand. 
Might lift some struggling soul from deepest 
depths 

Of sorrowing, and make it strong to strive/' 

Ah, yes, it was her friendly touch and timely 
words of admonition that had lifted his strug- 
gling soul from its deepest depths and made it 
strong to strive. 

The day passed on. While Leland’s trunks 
were being packed to be sent on ahead to the 
Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, which he intended to 
make his headquarters, Leland took his friends 
over to the magnificent church, and told them the 
secret of his purpose in building it. They were 
impressed with its imposing grandeur. Mrs. Bil- 
lion’s tender heart broke down, and she wept pas- 
sionately as she thought of the bitter trials 
through which her son had passed. 

After seeing the church, Leland took them to 
a place where they could see ^‘Lonely Vicinity,” 
Mamie’s first field of labor. 

It was a day of sadness to all. Yet they for- 
got their sadness for a while as they enjoyed the 
beautiful scenery of the landscapes that spread 
out before them in the dim blue distance like the 
flowery meads of Sicily, and the picturesque 
scenery of the mountain sides and valleys were 
not less enchanting. 

At night the skies were dark with the shadows 
of threatening rain-clouds. Host, hostess and 
guests retired early, that they might sleep and 
rise early to bid farewell to Leland and his friend 


CAIN. 


331 


as they started away. At three o’clock in the 
morning the rain began to patter briskly against 
the window-panes. The bright days were over. 

A half-hour later, the master’s voice rang 
through the house with orders to the driver. The 
carriage was soon ready, and the time for parting 
had come. 

Mrs. Dillion folded her son in one long em- 
brace, and pleaded to the very last that she might 
go with him, but he firmly refused to let her take 
the risk. 

^^Good-by, mother, I will bring Lilian back by 
and by. God will help me to find her.” 

The parting was painful, and Paix drew him 
into the carriage, took his seat beside him, and 
ordered the driver to proceed. The night was 
dark, the wind howled and sobbed through the 
valley; and the rain came down in torrents. 

Leland looked out once to see through the 
heavy rain the dim outline of ‘^Gethsemane,” and 
the light from the chandelier in the hall threw its 
cold, brilliant light far out upon the darkness. 
When he saw the last glimmer vanish in the dis- 
tance he groaned and a half-suppressed sob es- 
caped his lips. 

After some days, Leland and Paix were lodging 
at the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel. There they in- 
tended to part, each to search alone. 

There Leland met Edward Linden, and after 
a short conversation Leland told Edward of his 
intended trip. He asked Edward to go with him, 
which he at once agreed to do. 

Edward Linden had been a sadly disappointed 
boy all his life, and was a type of a lonely wan- 


332 


CAIN. 


derer. He had traveled over a great portion ot 
the world. His education was extremely ex- 
tensive, and his wealth immense. A strange fas- 
cination whispered ever to his lonely heart of the 
memory of Mamie, whose marvelous beauty had 
captivated his soul with a never-dying love. He 
was one of those men who could hardly forget. 

Paix boarded a ship bound for Brazil, and 
soon he was again on the bosom of the deep, as 
he had delighted to be in days gone by. 

In a short time Leland and Edward were mov- 
ing toward the Orient, and America was left be- 
hind. 


CAIN. 


333 


I 


CHAPTER XXVI. 

It was one of those lovely evenings whose tran- 
quillity and perfection of loveliness touched every 
uncomely scar on every building with the plastic, 
transforming hand, and made them seem perfect, 
flawless and fairy-like. 

The moon looked down through the crystal sea 
of electrical effulgence, and saw humanity flood- 
ing toward St. Peter^s Cathedral. Tradition, 
with its quaint, dubious whisper, tells us of St. 
PetePs Cathedral as a sacred monument built 
over the tomb of the Apostle Peter. It is sup- 
posed to stand where it stood in the primitive 
days of 306, the famous basilica erected by Con- 
stantine and Helena. 

At this particular hour , of devotional services 
there stood Mamie Homean upon the great main 
entrance of the magnificent Cathedral. She was 
about to speak to one of her pupils, who had 
come over with her from Siam, when she noticed 
her pupil shudder. They had been looking out 
over the splendor-lit scene, where the fairy lights 
danced nimbly over the circular basin pools into 
which the lively fountains showered their crystal 
sprays, and where the tall monument which stood 
in front of the Cathedral cast its shadow down 


334 


CAIN. 


across the beautiful, flawless, smooth pavement 
like the shadow of a sentinel guarding the Vati- 
can and the sanctity of the great basilica. 

‘^Why, La Veda, why do you hide your face 
with such a look of horror?” 

^‘Indeed, ’tis horrible to remember. Ah, well 
I remember the terrible cruelty that my eyes wit- 
nessed one day when I was only a little child nine 
years of age. I came here with papa to witness 
the execution of the victim on the guillotine. Oh, 
may I never see such cruelty again! It was just 
such a golden-lit stone pavement as that which 
lies out yonder under the vast flood of light that 
I saw a curdling pool of his blood, where it had 
trickled down over the destructive guillotine. 
Ugh! the wild, ghastly memory haunts me now 
as I look at the soft light of the pavement spread 
out before us.” 

]\Iamie sighed, and caressed the troubled brow. 

^Uhild, 5"ou must not think such terrible 
thoughts.” 

Just then she turned her head slightly, and 
saw the flgure of a man standing against one of 
the great columns. He was standing with folded 
arms and his hat drawn over his eyes. Mamie 
looked at him closely. Her face grew pale and 
her lips blanched. A flgure strangely like Alton 
Tolliver presented itself to her mind as she looked 
at him. 

She leaned forward with eagerness to observe 
him more closely. The man moved away as if he 
disdained such scrutiny; and for a moment he 
was lost among the incoming crowd. But just 
as they turned to go into the sanctuary they met 


CAIN. 


335 


him again. It was Alton Tolliver. His face 
was a fiendish visage, and his eyes were hard and 
pitiless. Mamie shrank from him. 

Alton approached her, fixed his fiendish eyes 
upon her; and for one moment they stared each 
other in the face. Then, with one shrill cry, he 
drew his revolver and fired one shot at Mamie. 
She fell backward on the fioor, insensible. 

The heartless villain leaped from the Cathedral 
like a frightened tiger over a wild mountain boul- 
der, and escaped through the crowded city. 

The frightened pupil fell upon her knees and 
bent over her chaperon, crying in deepest despair. 
Soon a crowd had gathered around the insensible 
form. After sufficient investigation she was car- 
ried to a quiet little boarding-house on the banks 
of the Tiber. 

For several days the unconscious form lay on 
her couch with few signs of life. The ball had 
penetrated the breast and ranged near the heart. 
She was cared for with the most skilful, tender 
nursing. Signora Czolflin, the good lady of the 
house, ministering to her with all the tenderness 
of a mother. 

The sorrow-stricken pupil was carried back to 
her home in Siam. Before Miss La Veda went 
away, they inquired of her the name of Mamie’s 
relatives. But she was unable to tell. In answer 
to their inquiry to Mamie’s having any special 
friend she said : 

'T heard her speak recently of receiving a let- 
ter from a lady friend in America, and in that 
letter she read the information that a gentleman 
named Mr. Cain had sailed for Liverpool. She 


336 CAIN. 

said that Mr. Cain was an intimate friend of 
hers.” 

She could give no further information. 

The long, solemn hours passed away, and no 
indication of recovery was perceptible. The phy- 
sicians had become wearied, and had exhausted 
every remedy. A deep, hopeless gloom brooded 
over the beautiful Italian home. 

Signora Czolflin had written a notice to Mr. 
Cain in Liverpool, and he was expected at any 
time. 

The unconscious woman seemed to sleep mo- 
tionless in the depths of painless suffering. 

It was not till several days after she was 
wounded that she seemed to move. The bright 
sunset glow of a tranquil Italian evening was 
streaming into the room where the patient lay 
suffering. Signora Czolflin was sitting by the 
bedside, as she had been doing night and day 
since the wounded missionary had been brought 
to her home. She was aroused by a groan, a short 
moan, from the unconscious woman’s lips. She 
rose and bent over her to listen. She saw a smile 
on her lips, then she heard her murmur some- 
thing indistinct. For several hours she continued 
in this way. Now and then her bony hands would 
grab at something in the air, then fall back help- 
less upon her breast. 

A servant came into the room quietly with a 
card, handed it to Signora Czolflin, who saw that 
it was from Mr. Cain. 

'^Go and admit him at once,” she said to the 
servant. 

Soon Leland was resting in the drawing-room. 


CAIN. 


337 


impatiently waiting to be taken into the room 
where he might see his loved one. The moments 
seemed centuries to him. Every noise at the par- 
lor door sent a thrill through his body, as he ex- 
pected every moment to be requested to visit the 
sick room. 

At last Signora Czolflin entered the drawing- 
room, bowed with exquisite Italian grace; and 
after making acquaintance and having a brief 
conversation with him she said: 

^^Mr. Cain, I learn that you are an intimate 
friend of Miss Homean?^ 

Leland smiled, and his face slightly flushed. 

“I am at least well acquainted with her.” 

'^We have informed you of her serious illness 
because we could not ascertain any of her rela- 
tives; and it was only through one of her pupils 
that we learned of your acquaintance with the 
lady.” 

“You will please tell me why, where, when, 
how, and by whom she was wounded?” 

The hostess then explained everything as she 
understood it, stating that the unknown assassin 
had escaped. She noticed the flash in his eyes 
and the scowl that darkened his brow from tem- 
ple to temple. 

“She is seriously injured?” 

“I think so, — probably will not recover.” 

He breathed quickly, then his heart seemed to 
cease throbbing. The light in the r-oom died 
away, and he seemed to be whirling through a 
vast volume of blackest smoke. The mocking 
words, “probably will not recover,” chased him 
with hissing wings, stabbing its talons into his 


338 


CAIN. 


heart. He hid his face in his handkerchief for 
some minutes; then he raised his tearful eyes to 
the lady, who read all the meaning of his inti- 
mate friendship with the missionary. She knew 
that he was anxious to see the wounded girl; and, 
moved by pity, she rose and said : 

‘^Would you like to see her a moment? You 
have an exclusive right to see her, as you are her 
only acquaintance.^’ 

“Certainly. I would consider such a privilege 
from you as an act of supreme kindness.” 

“Then we will enter quietly, though the slight- 
est disturbance or the greatest alike have failed 
to arouse her.” 

As they entered, the last glow of the setting 
sun lingered in the room, its glory seemingly 
gathering in a golden halo over the face of the 
sufferer. Leland stood at the foot of the bed, 
looking in speechless agony at the girl of his 
life-long hope. Her face was turned toward 
heaven. Though the lines of terrible suffering 
could be plainly seen upon it, there rested a 
sweet but sad smile about the corners of her lips. 
The expression on that sweet, pensive face told 
the story of a secret suffering that none but Le- 
land could understand. He had seen that face so 
often when her heart was dying slowly and hard 
with deepest mortal grief. 

He took a seat by the bedside, and looked long 
and pitifully at his sweetheart. Was she dying? 
Would the Lord be so cruel as to take her from 
him? He began to weep. Signora Czolflin wept, 
too — she could not suppress the tears. Ijeland 
then spoke in ten derest tones, but a broken voice: 


CAIN. 


339 


"She was the only hope that sustained my 
lonely life. She was the idol that survived all the 
wreck and ruin of my soul, and now, amid the 
wild waste and upon the ashes of my destroyed 
happiness, I see this beautiful idol crumbling, 
dying, dying at last! 0 Lord, may Thy gi'ace 
indeed be sufficient for me 1^^ 

His face was turned toward Signora Czolflin, 
and he felt a warm touch upon his hand, which 
was resting on the pillow by Mamie’s head. He 
turned to look, and lo ! a face full of the purest 
love was smiling upon him — a face so lovely that 
it seemed to have procured its beauty from the 
angels. Tears were in her eyes, and she looked 
at him with bewilderment. She understood who 
was in the room, but why was she so helpless? 

She had been dreaming, perhaps, of the man 
whose familiar, magnetic voice had awakened her. 
It was like the bursting of a rosebud into full 
bloom amidst the glory of a cloudless dewy morn- 
ing to see her awake from her long sleep. The 
voice fell upon her ear, touched it to thrilling, 
awaking joys; but she was confused. The room 
was strange to her. She could recognize only the 
magnetic voice of Leland. 

She swept her feeble hand across her brow, as 
if to clear her confused mind; then the horrible 
face of Alton appeared before her, and she re- 
membered the glittering weapon and the dull, 
death-like report of its destructive discharge. 

Leland looked at her in speechless wonder. He 
took the little hand and lifted it to his lips, and 
his warm tears fell upon it. Signora Czolflin 
stole quietly from the room. Leland dared not 


340 


CAIN. 


speak to Mamie lest the conversation wonld cost 
her severe pain, so he continued to hold her hand 
and weep. 

After a short pause she withdrew her hand and 
burst into bitter tears. Poor Leland, how his 
heart ached to see her suffer. The strong heart 
was at last broken and was seeking ease in a flow 
of tears. 

Then her voice broke forth in a pitiful wail: 

^‘Oh, would it not be better to die than to en- 
dure ?” 

“Dear Mamie, what is troubling you? I can- 
not bear to see you suffering so ! Oh, will you 
tell me?’’ 

She looked at him wistfully, then shook her 
head and turned her face to the wall. After a 
moment she turned her face toward him, and 
asked: “Why should you care so for me? Do 
you still love me? Have you never learned to 
forget me?” 

“No, darling, a thousand times, no! I still 
love you, and if there is any truth in woman’s 
eyes you still love me as surely and truly as that 
evening star looks down on us. Think you that, 
though I were banished from the civilized world 
and forced to exist an exile in the heart of that 
fabled land where no female dares to tread, and 
where Penelope and Lucina are never known, I 
could ever cease to love you? No, darling, my 
love is my whole life!” 

“Leland, you must forget me. When you go 
away you must turn your heart to some other 
comforter. 0 Leland, try to forget me !” 

“Mamie, dear, I know what it costs you to say 


C A r N . 


341 


those words. Your heart clings to that love 
which it has always cherished for me. Oh, how 
long will your conscience stand up to do battle 
with your struggling, passionate heart? Your 
wonderful conscience is a frightened Patroculus; 
but, ah, child ! some day, ere the sun of your life 
shall have set, your heart, the unconquered Hec- 
tor, shall be the conqueror, and Patroculus shall 
fall a slain victim at the feet of Priam’s and 
Hecuba’s valiant offspring — the bravest of the 
Trojans. Ah, child, you will remember some 
day that my prediction is true when I say that 
the terrible struggle, the bloody combat, will ter- 
minate in the downfall of your obstinate judg- 
ment.” 

A tremor swept across her pale lips and a shud- 
der shook her delicate form. The power of his 
personality startled her, as it had done oftentimes 
before. She had hoped that his prophecy would 
be false, but now some strange sensation told her 
that her destiny was sealed. She closed her eyes. 
Ah, how she loved the man who had uttered those 
words ! Oh, if she could only open her heart to 
him who longed to hear the sweet story from her 
own lips. 

She opened her eyes again, and looked at him 
with an appealing feverish gleam of bewilderment 
and pain in them. 

“You will soon go back to America,” she said 
dreamily, “and I will never see you again in this 
world; but tell me, oh, tell me, will you meet me 
up there where my mamma and your Saviour and 
the angels are singing the anthems of heaven? 
Oh, my dear Lfeland, will you teach your heart 


842 


CAIN. 


to seek the Christ who died for your wretched 
soul? Think no more of me, and if you so live 
here you shall see me there; and there where our 
souls, sanctified, shall wear the beautiful white 
robes of heavenly purity, we shall meet never to 
part. Oh, it seems to me that heaven would be 
empty if I should not find you there ! Here a 
bloodly gulf divides us, but yonder, oh, yonder! 
0 Leland, for my sake, meet me on that happy 
golden shore 

His strong body trembled, and he seized her 
listless hand and kissed it repeatedly. Ah, that 
bloody gulf! Could he ever span its depths of 
crime? He could never forget it; could he ever 
overcome it? He pressed the little hand passion- 
ately, and pleaded: 

^‘Dear child, tell me what your heart is dying 
for? Oh, say one sweet word, say ^Leland, I love 
you.^ ” 

She smiled sadly and shook her head. 

Her eyes closed and the soft silken lashes lay 
in the crystal tears on her pale cheeks, and she 
went away to dream. 

Leland sat there for some minutes, with his 
face buried in his hands. His heart was sinking. 
He rose, kissed the listless hand, and noiselessly 
left the room. 

That night he rested on a small couch in a 
neat little room on the upper story. The night 
was still. From his position he could see the 
moonlit haze which brooded over the Tiber as it 
flowed noiselessly through the ancient city. As 
he looked out upon the scene he thought of his 
lost sister. Wliere could she be to-night? Was 


CAIN. 


343 


she slumbering and dreaming in some happy 
home; or was she lying in some dingy confine, 
dying of hunger and savage treatment; or was 
she already sleeping in death with the gloomy 
shroud of the tomb about her? Beneath him lay 
the precious jewel of his heart, slowly dying of a 
serious physical injury, together with the dying 
agony of a grief-stricken heart. What had he in 
this world to sustain him? Hour after hour he 
brooded over his life of misfortunes. 

Day after day passed away, and the wounded 
woman began to recover slowly. After some time 
she recovered enough to go about, but was far 
from being able to resume her missionary work. 
It was not likely that she would ever be able. 

She went about the famous old city, observing 
its wonderful things of interest, and gathering 
knowledge from the actual observation of those 
things about which she had read that she might 
have a better conception of Roman customs, both 
ancient and modern, and ancient Roman tradi- 
tions. 

It was her custom to visit the Vatican often. 
She went often to the grand old Coliseum, to see 
its quaint, artistic construction, and to think of 
the ancient festivities that had occurred within 
its powerful walls. Many a spirited steed had 
clattered his ringing hoofs against that old beaten 
track that circled through that great amphithe- 
atre. Many a whizzing chariot wheel had sung 
the wild, enthusiastic song that filled many a 
Roman heart with frantic enthusiasm. Many a 
wild, mad, raving halloo had beaten the air with 
its savage heathenish echo there. All these had 


844 


CAIN. 


occurred hundreds and hundreds of years ago, 
yet the wonderful old Coliseum remained an awer- 
inspiring relic of those ancient festivities. But 
time had begun its decaying work upon its mas- 
sive walls; yet its decay had scarcely been per- 
ceptible. Many years men had been quarrying 
material from it to build churches, and yet no 
marked deficiency could be noticed in its walls. 

She found scarcely less interest in visiting the 
ruined, crumbled palace of Nero. 

She visited many points of interest, beguiling 
the lonely hours as best she could; yet she had 
no dear friend to make her weary life less bur- 
densome. Leland had left her and gone away 
to the gloomy fiords of Norway. She was treated 
kindly, but those strange Italians were not like 
her intimate friends. 

The physicians had refused to grant her request 
to return to America, as her health would be then 
destroyed forever. So she drifted about through 
that peculiar Oriental society week after week. 

One night, when the sky was clear and the 
moon was shining bright, a strange impulse seized 
Mamie. She rose from the reclining chair in her 
boudoir, threw a heavy wrap about her shoulders, 
and stole quietly out into the night. 

It was not far down to the river, so she was 
soon on its bank. She stood by the rippling stream 
that now and then broke over the pebbles at her 
feet, and began to weep. She was sad and weary. 
Life seemed ^^but an empty dream.” Her broken 
heart sought ease there where she could hear the 
murmur of the river and could see the myriad 
host of constellations occupying the far-away 


CAIN. 


345 


solitudes of the unknown universe. These scenes 
were a solace. Here she could perhaps forget; 
or maybe, in some way, the burden would be 
lighter. 

She looked heavenward, the tears streaming 
down her cheeks. She thought singing would 
allay the pain of sorrow, so her beautiful lips 
parted sweetly, and from the depths of her rich 
pure spirit floated these tender lines in that sad 
Andante refrain (Wilcott) : 

what is life f *Tis like a flower 
That blossoms and is gone; 

It flourishes its little hour, 

^Yith all its beauty on; 

Death comes, and, like a wintry day. 

It cuts the lovely flower away. 

what is life? 'Tis like the bow 
That glistens in the sky; 

We love to see its colors glow; 

But while we look, they die; 

Life fails as soon; to-day 'tis here; 
To-morrow it may disappear. 

*'Lord, what is life? If spent with Thee, 

In humble praise and prayer. 

How long or short our life may be. 

We feel no 

She paused. Could she truthfully say the 
other? Yes, when one is on the Lord’s side it 
was so. She concluded: 


346 


CAIN. 


feel no anxious care. 

Though life depart our joys shall last 
When life and all its joys are past.** 

The last lingering echo died away upon some 
distant hill, its pathos seeming to linger to the 
last dying sound. 

She sobbed bitterly, and as she buried her face 
in her hands she heard the voice of one, Leland, 
fall pathetically upon the dying echo of her 
plaintive melody. Ere she had time to look up, 
he was upon his knees by her side, kissing her lit- 
tle hand and baptizing it with his tears. 

‘^0 Mamie, it is killing me to see you suffering 
so ! Oh, I cannot bear it V* 

am not suffering much. Lei and. I am just 
feeling a little sad this evening. Leland, do not 
trouble about me.’’ She dried her tears and 
smiled — ah, so dreamily sweet. 

^^But, Mamie, darling, I caught the trembling, 
sorrowful tone of your dying heart as you sang 
that song, its pitiful tenderness telling me, as it 
has always done, that your poor heart is broken.” 

“You know, Leland, that I am not like other 
girls. I know I am strange, but I cannot help it. 
Of course, you are not surprised at my coming 
out here; you know it is one of my whims.” 

“Yes, darling, you are very different from 
other girls — so different that there is not one in 
this wide world so good, so lovely, so sweet, so 
altogether beautiful !” 

His voice was full of deepest passion, and his 
face was so bright with the inspiration of his love 


CAIN. 


347 


that Mamie shut her eyes with a faint fear and 
dread touching her heart. 

“It pains me to see you grieve your life away 
because you cannot claim me as your own. I 
know, dear Leland, oh, I know how sweet it is 
to love ! But, oh, how bitter it is to be turned 
away from that love forever! Forgive me, dear 
Leland, when I tell you to go away and think no 
more of me. 0 Leland, I sometimes think that 
if I were dead and turned to ashes you would for- 
get and be happy.” 

“No, Mamie, 1 can never forget. When I rise 
to unknown worlds, probably the only relic of my 
dreary life will be my everlasting love for my 
darling Mamie. 0 Mamie, your love for me is 
killing you. Won’t you come to me, love me, 
freely give your tender, pure life to me, be my 
darling wife and love me forever?” 

She smiled sadly and wistfully and shook her 
head. 

“Mamie, my sins are washed away. I am re- 
deemed. You cannot dare to hold anything 
against me now, since God, for Christ’s sake, has 
forgiven me. Won’t you come to me now?” 

She looked at him with speechless wonder in 
her tear-dimmed eyes. If an angel had descended 
from heaven and had announced the happy news 
she would not have been more astonished. Yet 
she could not doubt it. Leland was sincere. After 
all, her prayers and hopes were not in vain. She 
was so happy. Her face revealed it; and Leland 
caught the significance of her shining counte- 
nance. But only for a moment; then a deep, 


348 


CAIN. 


hopeless shadow darkened her brow and her eyes 
again filled with pain. 

“I must, once for all, say no. Think you that 
I could unite my destiny with a man whose life 
is stained with the blood of an innocent girl, who 
fell a victim to his cruelty in an evil hour when 
his heart was raging with savage, merciless an- 
ger? Oh, how soon would I be murdered at some 
evil moment when your relentless passion would 
be hurled at me? You may be saved from your 
sins, and I trust that you will meet me in heaven ; 
but here I could not trust you. I shall never be 
your 

He placed his hands to his ears, and would not 
hear her last words. He rose from his position 
and hurried away. 

She looked after him in bewilderment. He 
was soon lost in the distance; was he gone for- 
ever? She felt that the last hope that sustained 
her frail life had gone out forever. Her lips 
quivered, the moonlight seemed to grow dim 
about her, a chilly sensation crept over her, and 
a sob from the deepest depths of her despairing 
heart choked her. If he went away and took his 
own life, would she be responsible for his ruined 
life? 

For more than an hour she sat mute. From 
her inmost soul she cried to God to be merciful to 
him. A death-like anguish crept over her. She 
started up alarmed, staring about her in wildest 
frenzy. Her senses became confused. 

She looked down the river and saw two Italian 
skiffs floating about on the still water at their 
place of mooring. She went hurriedly to them, 


CAIN. 


349 


unfastened one of them and entered it. Slowly 
and carefully she plied the oars and was soon on 
the bosom of the deep stream. She glanced one 
despairing look back at the receding city, then 
turned forever from it, saying feebly: ‘‘I am 
going home to Mamma — ” Her voice died away 
like a fainting echo. Her strength was exhausted, 
the oar fell from her powerless hands, and she 
fell insensible in the boat. 

Ah! What cruel fate! Love is stronger than 
death, yet it drives the dying heart to despair. 

The boat drifted on with the tide. Some wan- 
derers who were out till late hours in the night 
saw the boat, but no occupant, so they turned 
away carelessly to their sports. On, on, it drifted 
past cottages and hamlets and farms, while the 
poor girl lay unconscious in the boat. The big, 
bright, golden moon had lowered itself so near 
the horizon that the long, slanting beams of light 
fell against the sides of the boat and left the 
wnman’s figure in the shadow. As the ripples of 
the stream grinned at the breezes which fanned 
them, the moonbeams silvered their glistening 
crests with fair touches of purest light. 

When the night was far spent, the boat had 
drifted far down the stream. Far down the river 
a small white bulk could be seen against the black 
background of the dark distance. Its movement 
could scarcely be noticed except by repeated ob- 
servations. But after some time it drew nearer, 
and the figure of a man was visible, standing in 
a small boat as if trying to ascertain something 
about the stray shallop in which Mamie was 
sleeping, and which was some distance from his 


350 


CAIN. 


boat. He was not alone. He was accompanied 
by a dwarfish, kinky-headed man. The latter 
rose after the other had resumed his seat, and 
with a spy-glass scanned the universe with the air 
and dignity of an astronomer. He took it from 
his eyes and shook his head gravely. His ugly 
face winced, and he batted his eyes dubiously. 

At length the man concluded that the distant 
object was merely a floating piece of loose tim- 
ber, so they turned their boat about to return, as 
they had intended to do. 

Soon they reach the large ship that floated 
at anchor at the river’s mouth and were soon on 
board. 

The dwarf paused on the deck to scan the 
heavens again, then said in a muffled tone: ^^By 
the power of Loki ! methinks it might be likely 
to bring up a terrible storm.” 

About an hour later, the dwarf leaned over the 
railing and glanced down into the water. His 
sensitive ear caught the sound of something mak- 
ing a sharp grating against the side of the vessel. 
He leaned further out to ascertain what it was; 
then he drew back and gazed with astonishment. 
He turned to run below to inform the captain, 
when the latter appeared on deck. 

^‘Hick ah valla von dika ! Most noble Am- 
phion, I have seen the wife of Morpheus ! Come ! 
She is as fair and . white as the purest snow on 
Iceland’s snow-crowned yokuls. Come this way 
and see her.” 

He beckoned to the old man with an air of 
profound solemnity, which summons the old man 
obeyed. They looked down on the object at which 


CAIN. 


351 


the dwarf pointed. After a moment the captain 
took a unique souvenir from his belt and kissed 
it in ancient reverence, then kissed his silver- 
tipped spear. 

‘'By the gods, thou hast well said, my lad. For 
surely it is a sleeping goddess. And there is a 
loveliness about her that reminds me of Feruzzi 
Madonna.^^ 

The old man looked again, and saw the wander- 
ing skiff in which poor, frenzied Mamie was 
floating away. She was lying just as she had 
fallen, her face upward. The reflection of a thou- 
sand stars be jeweled the water about her, and 
she seemed to be dreaming amid the glories of a 
new paradise. 

“Here, my lad,” said the old man with a 
pleased smile on his face. “Let’s fetch her on 
deck — it is a wandering maiden.” 

Soon they managed to take her on board, and 
the old man looked long and earnestly at her. 
Tears trickled down his cheeks as he bent over 
and kissed her sweet lips. He lifted the beauti- 
ful diamond-bead necklace suspended about her 
neck, and looking at the inscription on it he 
smiled pleasantly. 

He gazed at the heavens and scanned the old 
ocean far and wide. He shook his head and 
fondled his gray bear dubiously. The gray 
dawn had begun to creep over the world, but the 
southern horizon looked sullen with a series of 
long gray and blue clouds just above it. 

He turned to the pilot and ordered him to set 
his compass for the far-away North. He returned 


362 


CAIN. 


to the girl he had found, and kissed her hand 
and said dreamily: 

^^It is Fjonkon, my Fjonkon! Hick ah valla 
van dika!” 

Mamie went away, and the missionary could 
hear no more of her. '^Lonely Vicinity^^ lost her. 
Her dear friends and loved ones finally lost all 
hope of ever seeing her again. 

After a long, long, earnest but fruitless search 
over nearly all parts of the world, Cain and Ed- 
ward Linden returned to New York. There they 
rested a few months, when, at an enormous cost, 
Leland purchased a handsomely fitted pleasure 
yacht. A few weeks later they put out to sea 
again for a pleasant voyage of a few months in 
northern latitudes. 

It was a beautiful day when they steamed out 
of the harbor. That day their voyaging was 
pleasant; and when the great luminary of day 
had gathered all his glory unto himself, the soft 
glow of a lovely-tinted twilight lingered over the 
rippling waters. Soon the moon was looking 
down upon the snow-white polished deck of the 
aristocratic yacht. Leland sat upon the deck- 
railing, conversing with his friend Linden. Now 
and then his eyes wandered dreamily out toward 
the shore of traditional Nova Scotia’s banks smil- 
ing with beautiful meadows. Edward Linden 
puffed the blue curls of smoke from his lips as he 
lazily smoked a delicious Havana. Below them 
Paix was strumming a prelude on the piano. This 
was Paix’s last night with his friend Leland, for 
he meant to leave the yacht at the first coaling- 


CAIN. 


353 


station. When all was quiet, they heard a sweet 
voice coming over the water from a small cot- 
tage on the shore. It was a maiden singing that 
beautiful pathetic song whose immortal title is, 
“In the Sweet By and By.’^ 

It was late when the gentlemen retired; then, 
after all was quiet again, Leland crept back upon 
the deck, and there, where only the stars could 
see him, he knelt and his spirit went up to God 
in prayer. 


854 


CAIN 


BOOK III. 

CHAPTER XXVIL 

**Tlie waters warbled and gurgled 
Like the lips of long ago/" 


— Riley. 

A SUMMER landscape ! — ^but not like those 
sedative, mild landscapes that enhance the lands 
of a more temperate latitude. Yet the scene was 
a beautiful one. It was a long slope of green 
meadow which ran down to the sea to be kissed 
by the wavelets, and a kiss of the midnight sun. 
The gentle breezes sang no song; not a bird’s 
melody could be heard in the tree-tops; and Na- 
ture whispered not a word. Only the ripples on 
the shore broke the strange silence as they 
'^Warbled and gurgled like the lips of long ago.” 

Away in the distance great mountains stood 
out against the sky like grim, ghastly monuments. 
Their snow-capped summits grinned like wild 
haunts of the undiscovered. 

Here and there a small islet peeped up out of 
the water, a few tall pines clustered on its sur- 
face, crowning it with a wreath of evergreens. 
A few flocks of eider-ducks paddled about them. 


CAIN. 


355 


diving now and then after their food ; while 
others slept in the midnight sun, with their long 
broad bills hidden under their downy wings. 

Across a broad glen, on another sloping mead- 
ow, grazed a great herd of sheep. 

It was a strangely beautiful land. A fascinat- 
ing diffusion of romantic peace was its most win- 
some charm. The smile of a new paradise touched 
it with a rare beauty and a loveliness supreme. 
The inspired poet might well say that this was 
indeed “Paradise Eegained.’^ It was tranquil, 
serene, in its wild romantic glory. 

The rosy hue of the midnight sky seemed to 
flash brilliantly at intervals, touching ten thou- 
sand tiny wavelets with purest ruby tints. Each 
series of wavelets ran with its “ripples shod” 
with the sunshine of an arctic midnight. It was 
a brilliant midnight. What a strange land ! — a 
land whose landscapes are never entirely free 
from ice and snow; whose waters never cease from 
icebergs; whose skies for weeks are never without 
a sun. 

The scene changed again, and for a moment the 
dubious flicker of the heaven’s light trembled vio- 
lently; then the whole eidouranion of the uni- 
verse was a flame of the ruddiest glow. It re- 
mained this way only a fleeting moment, then its 
ruddy glow faded to opalescent tints, then a pearly 
gray crept over the sun. 

There was one person, Edward Linden, who 
observed these scenes with speechless wonder. He 
had been standing upon the meadow with his 
seismometers by his side, and with a tattered, 
tom, dingy booklet in his hand (which he had 


366 


CAIN. 


found near the pebbly beach), when he noticed 
the glory of the heavens and paused to gaze upon 
the pageant scene. When the brilliancy of the 
heavens had faded to a pearly gray, he resumed 
his perusal of the mysterious book he had found. 
With a puzzled frown he managed to read, with 
some difficulty, the origin of man in the Ice- 
landic language. 

“Humph! An extract from the old Icelandic 
Bible, I suppose,^^ he musingly conjectured. 
Without furtW perusal of the pamphlet he put 
it into his pocket, then proceeded to make his ex- 
perimental test with his seismometers to detect 
and register the quaking and tremors of the earth 
for which Iceland is so noted. But detecting only 
the slightest perception of an earthquake he put 
away his instruments, spread out his rugs upon 
the shore, lay down on them to rest and to ob- 
serve the sky in its changing colors. 

While he reclined he fell asleep and dreamed of 
a new and strange love. It was more beautiful 
than he had ever realized. In his sleep he smiled. 
He fancied he heard a pure, rare voice echoing 
through the reverberating forests and oyer the 
resonant waters. Slowly it drew nearer to him, 
till it at last stood by him and smiled, while tears 
of joy stood charmingly in her beautiful eyes. 
Her charm was irresistible, and he was extending 
his arms to take her to his heart, when suddenly 
he awoke to see a large ember-goose circling 
gracefully about just over him. He still heard 
the sweet voice, this time in reality, but faint 
and dreamily far away. 

He rose to a sitting posture, took his gun and 


CAIN. 


357 


fired at the goose. The grand echo galloped 
swiftly over the distant hills and hollows, then 
died away in an unknown solitude. 

Edward listened till the echo was nearly 
hushed, and presently he heard the sound of the 
stray echo of that sweet voice he had heard in 
his dream. He was entranced. There was a 
strange sweet pathos in its melody that he had 
never heard in any other voice. ‘‘That it was the 
voice of a maiden, I am sure,’’ he said to him- 
self, “though it was far away.” 

He laughed “to think what a fool he was”; his 
laughter returned to him in a grand echo; then 
as it murmured faintly in a distant ravine, again 
he heard the enchanting melody of the invisible 
enchantress in sweetest harmony blending with 
the receding echo. 

He thought of himself as the unfortunate Nar- 
cissus, allured by the enchantress nymph. Echo. 
At last he fell in love with that voice. It con- 
tained a quality of a new and rare pathos which 
responded to the dreariness of his lonely heart. 
Before he knew it, he found himself advancing 
toward the charming voice. On, on he went, 
passing beautiful little lakes where the eider- 
divers lined the shores with their downy plumage 
and where the soft, delicate pansies grew in pro- 
fusion. He passed sulphur pools here and there, 
the like of which he had never seen; then he dis- 
covered roaring geysers around which he fain 
would have lingered through curiosity, but that 
voice called him on. 

Suddenly the voice hushed, and he paused to 
wonder if he were really awake or simply a som- 


358 


CAIN. 


nambulist. Just then a gentle breeze swept in 
from the sea and awoke the slumbering landscape 
to a more delightful existence. It was one of 
those sedative breezes so favored in Iceland, which 
come in from the Gulf Stream whose waters con- 
tain the warmth and vigor of thousands of people 
who are blessed with its advantages. 

It is remarkable to think that if it were not for 
this Gulf Stream, Iceland would be a vast bleak 
iceberg, standing like a grim monster-ghost 
haunting the wild cold seas of the North with 
desolation. But there is a blessing in it, and 
during the short, wild summers there is no place 
half so beautiful as the meadowed and flowered 
shores of Lonely Iceland. Her long, changeless 
summer days are touched with a wild and rare 
radiance such as no other land can boast, and 
one is thrilled with a strange rapture when rapt 
in its gleaming, consummate beauty. ^Gn that 
strange island, Iceland — burst up, the geolo- 
gists say, by Are from the bottom of the sea, a 
wild land of barrenness and lava, swallowed many 
months of the year in black tempests, yet with a 
wild, gleaming beauty in the summer-time, tow- 
ering up there stern and grim in the Northern 
Ocean, with its snow yokuls — mountains, — roar- 
ing geysers — boiling springs, sulphur pools and 
horrible volcanic chasms, like the waste, chaotic 
battlefleld of Frost and Fire” — one finds his 
beau-ideal of a supremely delightful land of 
varied scenes and varied curiosities, wild adven- 
tures and rare, pleasing romances. On the sea- 
board of this wild, strange land, or island, is a 
margin of grassy country where cattle and sheep 


CAIN. 


359 


and reindeer can subsist and where Iceland’s 
Danish populace subsist by means of these ani- 
mals and of what the sea yields. Carlyle says, 
‘^Much would be lost if Iceland had not been 
burst up from the sea, not been discovered by 
the Northmen.’’ 

Edward Linden was listening to hear the first 
faint echo of that wonderful-voiced enchantress, 
when suddenly it burst upon his ear in closer, 
sweeter, louder and wilder pathetic strains. He 
was astonished, enraptured, subdued. He found 
himself advancing toward it again, but again it 
hushed. 

What could it all mean ? He was puzzled. 
Oh, he would follow that invisible enchantress 
forever if she would only let him hear her voice 
always. 

At last he found himself standing by the mar- 
gin of a large, beautiful bay — one of those grand, 
picturesque Northern Fiords. He leaned against 
a huge craggy boulder projecting over the water, 
and looked down into the charming waves that 
rolled upon the shore. A large, craggy bluff over- 
looked this fiord, and this boulder against which 
Edward leaned nearly cut off the view beyond it. 

Near where he stood there was an eddy of still, 
deep water, into whose clear depths he gazed at 
his own image, thinking of the little romance he 
had had. All was quiet. Now and then some 
distant bleating of a sheep could be heard, and 
then the monotonous quack! quack! of the eider 
cluster sounded over the water. He was still 
thinking of that strange voice. Ah, how its mel- 
ody vibrated in his heart that shining midnight 


360 


CAIN. 


on the fiord ! It was a ceaseless echo of a tender, 
sacred memory. He was surprised to find himself 
brushing away a few tears from his eyes. 

Just then his enchantress aroused him with her 
song. It was a voice that sounded low and sweet 
over the resonant water. It chanted a melody 
sweet, but the language was unknown to the New 
Yorker. It was drawing nearer ! He listened 
with rapture in his soul. He looked down into 
the clear, still water and saw his image smiling ; 
and lo ! there was another image, and it was 
smiling. But it had not noticed his. 

He saw her stoop and heard the splash of the 
water as she dipped a pretty bouquet into it. He 
advanced a few steps past the projecting rock, 
where stood a maiden, half surprised, but not 
frightened, looking wonderingly at him. He lifted 
his hat and extended his courtesies to her. She 
bowed and smiled. 

^‘Will you pardon me for this intrusion?’’ he 
asked confusedly. ^Terhaps I have ventured too 
far and am intruding upon some one’s premises.” 

She looked at him with mischief in her eyes, 
but did not answer. She stooped to pick up a 
blossom that had dropped from her bouquet. Ed- 
ward spied a little boat just a few steps beyond 
her, drawn out on the graveled shore. Its oars 
were wet, giving evidence that they had been 
recently used. 

While gazing at the boat and trying to find 
some way out of his embarrassment, he glanced 
once at the beautiful maiden, who was arranging 
the loose spray in her bouquet. Was she a per- 
fect type of an Icelandic maiden? Could Ice- 


CAIN. 


361 


land boast of such marvelous beauty? She lifted 
her eyes and looked full into his face. He smiled 
and her eyes fell, while the color touched her face 
with a charming blush. She fondled the delicate 
flowers nervously. Edward looked at her as one 
who felt conquerer. He knew the battle was his. 
For why those drooping eyes, those blushing 
cheeks? Did ever a king look into such tender, 
such innocent, such beautiful eyes? He beheld 
in them something tender, but could he tell what 
it was? The long silence became embarrassing, 
and Edward apologized: 

“I am sorry to have imposed myself on you so 
abruptly. Please accept my sincere apologies.^^ 

She stood near the boat, lifted the oar from it, 
dipped the oar into the water and sprinkled the 
flowers with a kind of ritual baptism; then kissed 
them and laid them at his feet. Was ever greater 
homage paid to a king? He was puzzled to know 
what she meant. He knew not the interpretation 
of such a custom. She smiled as she looked at 
him with an idle tear in her eyes. He felt that 
she was waiting for some word or expression of 
gratitude and acceptance for an act of respect 
and recognition, and after a slight confusion he 
said : 

‘‘Of course I do not understand the significance 
of such an act; but, whatever it may be, I feel 
that it is a graceful recognition, andi I shall al- 
ways remember you gratefully for it.” 

“Stranger,” she said timidly, “it means wel- 
come.” 

“Then you will please pardon my rude man- 
ner of acceptance?” 


362 


CAIN. 


am pleased to confer such happiness upon 
you/’ she replied. 

Then she bowed demurely, gave her hand a 
kind of explanatory flourish, and said: 

^^Now that I have welcomed you, hick ah Loki, 
valla van dika ! The Lord be thy keeper !” 

Before he was aware of her movements, she 
stepped into her boat and had pushed it out from 
the bank into the water. 

^Tray do not go yet !” he pleaded in awkward 
enthusiasm. ‘Tf I am not too presumptuous, may 
I ask your name?” 

She shook her head and lifted her little jew- 
eled hand gracefully to point across the flord, 
where the dim distance showed the outline of 
what seemed to be an island, saying in a half- 
frightened tone : “Forbidden ! Forbidden !” 

“Oh, thou beautiful maiden of Iceland, tell 
me, oh, tell me ! I — ” She laughed merrily at 
his discomfiture, and quickly pushed her little 
shallop out from his reach. She said as she 
rowed swiftly away and glanced back: “Fare- 
well !” 

Edward looked at the departing object till it 
appeared like a mere speck in the distance, then 
it vanished in the distant haze. He saw some- 
thing flash brilliantly in the sunlight where the 
boat had just disappeared, then it flickered and 
went out. 

After a long walk, he reached the long slope of 
meadow where he had left his seismometers, and 
where he found his boat just as he had left it. 
He looked out over the fiord toward the yacht 
and saw a boat coming across toward him. He 


CAIN. 


363 


took up his instruments and started down to meet 
the boat. It landed before he reached the shore, 
its occupants disembarked and came to meet him. 
He recognized Leland, but there was a stranger 
with him. But as they drew nearer he saw that 
it was Paix, who had a peculiar limp that would 
always identify him. 

"'Mon Dieu! Edward,” he said laughing, with 
his hand extended, “it is an excellent piece of 
luck that I find you gentlemen here. I thought 
that you were going to Spitzbergen.” 

“Why, halloo, Paix. What strange whim 
brought you here?” 

^^ell, Edward, I can’t give any reason other 
than that I was seeking mysteries and have found 
even more by coming here.” 

“Why, what have you found more than you 
sought?” interrupted Edward. Paix chuckled 
heartily as he answered: 

“Well, I found two American fools and a land 
whose shores are lined with eider-down.” 

Leland laughed heartily, while Edward only 
smiled. 

^^Vell, Paix,” answered Edward, “you have 
been blessed with excellent success then to have 
found your old congenial chums again, eh?” 

“Certainly, misery loves company, you know. 
Why, mon cher, you look dreadfully exhausted ! 
Your hunt has wearied you. We had started to 
hunt you.” 

“Yes, Edward, you have been absent too long. 
Where have you been?” inquired Leland. 

“Oh, I have just been hunting, taking sketches. 


364 CAIN. 

making observations, and so forth ; don’t be 
vexed.” 

‘^Well, let’s be off to the yacht,” suggested Le- 

land. 

‘^Yes,” ejaculated Paix, ‘Vou must take a re- 
freshment of eau de vie and revive yourself, Ed- 
ward. I believe you have been up to some of 
your whims, you know.” 


I 


CAIN. 


365 


CHAPTEE XXVIII. 

Leland and Edward rose from the supper 
table, went upon deck and seated thmselves. Af- 
ter some time, Leland looked up from the paper 
he was reading and said: 

“Edward, I think it would be a wise conclusion 
on our part if we were to leave this dreary island 
and seek a more populous clime. There is noth- 
ing here but landscapes, eider-down, eider-ducks, 
codfish, fleece-backs, and perpetual day 

Edward looked lazily at him with an amused 
smile. 

“Don’t get impatient, old boy. Here you 
should acquaint yourself with these picturesque 
scenes and store up in your knowledge-box valu- 
able information concerning Arctic regions and 
Arctic customs. Here you should content your- 
self with study and preparation on your next 
series of lectures which you are going to deliver 
in America next season.” 

“As for Arctic scenery, I have seen enough al- 
ready; and as to Arctic customs I know nothing, 
and from all appearances I have never seen the 
least indication of any inhabitants here.” 

“You have never met any of the natives, then?” 

“No, I have never seen one.” 

“I don’t suppose, then, that you could inform 
me about what I intended to inquire of you. Did 


366 


CAIN. 


you know that there was a royal palace not far 
from here? It is a palace, I am sure, for I have 
seen its beautiful princess.” 

^‘Edward, there is some delusion raging in 
your brain. Any one knows that there is no pal- 
ace here in this wilderness part of Iceland, where 
its few stupid inhabitants are so indolent that no 
enterprise can be propagated. Think of a palace 
in the midst of a people who can barely subsist 
on their meagre receipts from the production of 
eider-down, codfish and fiamb’s fleece’ !” 

^^You may ridicule the idea if you want to, but 
I have told you the truth. And many other things 
I could tell you if you would listen and believe 
me.” 

“With pleasure, sir,” said Leland, trying to 
become somewhat serious and earnest. Then Ed- 
ward told him the whole story of his adventure. 
The story was full of interest to Leland. 

“Well, upon my soul, Edward, you are not go- 
ing to yield to sentimentalism and passion in this 
strange, legendary land, are you?” 

“You are unjust in your implication, Leland. 
I was only saying that the lady whom I met was 
pretty.” 

“Perhaps you have really found the goddess of 
beauty. But mind that you don’t find yourself 
worshipping at the shrine. I dare say she is a 
rustic maiden of Iceland, dressed in the affecta- 
tion and unadorned beauty of Paganism, darting 
about through the masculine realms with a hope 
of catching for a husband some unsuspecting no- 
bleman or American gentleman.” 

“Nonsense, Leland, I am not so easily captured, 


CAIN. 


367 


you know. But I’ll see if you are hard to cap- 
ture. I want you to go with me this very night. 
You say you like romance and adventure; I shall 
give you a taste of it to-night. Will you go?” 

‘Terhaps I will,” was the careless answer. 
“But let’s go below and refresh ourselves by hear- 
ing Paix tell some of his marvelous exploits and 
air some of his jokes. You know his yacht just 
came in the other day while you were absent. He 
will be off for the Shetland Islands in a few 
days. So let us enjoy this soul-reviving wit and 
humor while we have him with us.” 

This they did, and an hour later their boat 
could be seen skipping over the deep water to- 
ward the mysterious little island. The sunlit 
veil of crimson and gold was spread across the 
skies and its beauty touched the bosom of the 
deep, making it smile as in a happy dream. 
Each stranded sunbeam spanned the universe 
from the ocean to the skies as if waiting for the 
touch of some gifted Orpheus to sound them 
into the grand orchestral anthems of heaven’s 
grandest harmonies. To the moonlit scenery one 
often sees about the old Alhambra there was a 
mockery in the beauty of the golden tints that 
gleamed in the crimson hue of the Arctic skies 
and their glitter among the waves. The great 
mountains lifted their snow-crowned altars high 
among the clouds. Their massive, rocky steeps 
went up like towering pyramids whose dismantled 
ruins tell the mournful traditions of ages once 
bright, but now fled forever as flee the delusions 
of a happy dream. 

Edward and Leland were silent for some time. 


368 


CAIN. 


Their boat cleaved the gilded waves and only the 
continual splashing of their oars in the wate/ 
broke the silence — the solemn stillness. 

At last they reached a landing-place, where they 
looked at the strange surroundings with a feeling 
of awe. 

There was a wharf on the shore and near by was 
a large, old-fashioned yacht anchored at its place 
of mooring. The island was beautiful in its ver- 
dant robe of Arctic evergreens and its picturesque 
rocks and cliffs all trailing with creeping vines. 

Edward looked uneasily about him. He moved 
about cautiously, and when he spoke, it was in awe 
and muffled accents. He at length found a little 
path that wound through the pines end rocks ; and 
he suggested that they follow it. Leland agreed 
and Edward led the way. They wound around 
great rocks and boulders and through the dense 
pine forest, till at length they came suddenly 
upon a great stone wall. The path led directly 
to a huge stone door in the massive wall. The ad- 
venturers looked at each other as if puzzled. The 
door was almost hidden under a copious entangle- 
ment of evergreen vines, and Edward cautiously 
drew them aside and looked in. The door was 
open. They could see a long, neatly trimmed ar- 
bor that led up to the doorstep of what, from 
their situation, seemed to be a house. 

Then lightly and cautiously they stepped in 
through the open doorway. Once within, they 
stopped and looked around with admiration at 
the magnificent prospect. 

In the center of a beautiful square yard stood 
the most magnificent home that the wandering 


CAIN. 


369 


adventurers had ever seen. The midnight sun 
gilded its fretted and friezed eaves and corners 
with tints of gold and wove a wreath of sunlight 
about the beautiful building. Here and there 
beautiful evergreen shrubs and tall pines dotted 
the yard. Vases and pots swinging beautified 
the scene with lovely rare fiowers whose loveli- 
ness enhanced the Northern barrenness and 
whose creeping tendrils swung like green trees 
in the breezes or spread their rich growth like a 
royal mantle over the ground. 

A long, low, narrow arbor led the way from 
the gate to the house. On its sides were thick 
growths of shrubbery neatly trimmed. They 
walked along under this arbor until they came 
very near the house, and there they lay down 
to rest and look about the beautiful palace. They 
were almost hidden in the clustering vines where 
they reclined on a carpet of softest verdure. Their 
conversation was in a low, muffled tone. Perfect 
stillness brooded all around. Not a leaf nor a 
spray moved. 

Leland had just remarked about the strange 
stillness, when suddenly a great fiash fiamed 
across the universe like a myriad host of blaz- 
ing demons. From East to West the fiery darts 
quivered with petulant anger; then rolled into 
massive heaps and surged out into the gaping uni- 
verse again. Then a quaking tremor ran over the 
land like a trembling wave, and a terrible, deaf- 
ening roar startled the midnight stillness. The 
mountains were awake with the grand echoes as 
they bounded angrily through the craggy cliffs 
and deep resonant valleys. It was a time fraught 


370 


CAIN. 


with terror. All Iceland quaked under the power 
of Mt. Hekla, whose destructive contents boiled 
to fury in the burning regions of her fiery bed. 
There had been a slight eruption beneath, but its 
power reached this part of Iceland only to pro- 
duce a violent tremor. The cinders drifted over 
the land and in the air like falling flakes of 
soiled snow. 

Edward looked at his friend in consternation. 
There was an anxious, fearful look on his face. 
Leland was cool and composed. The distant rum- 
bling of the receding echoes could be faintly 
heard. 

Leland was about to speak when a voice mur- 
muring something indistinctly but angrily fell on 
their ears. They looked up and saw a figure pass 
hurriedly by them. They looked after it and saw 
it pause at the open door and look cautiously out, 
then look back. It was a man. He placed his 
spy-glass to his eye, viewed the land over, then 
observed the midnight sky. As he took his glasses 
from his eyes, he shook his head with an air of 
suspecting ill. He drpw back, closed the door 
and w'alked back down the arbor with his 
head thrown back as if to make some new as- 
tronomical discovery. However, he stopped just 
opposite where they were reclining, drew his gold- 
hilted sword from its sheath, flourished it and ex- 
claimed : 

^^0 ye sons of Muspelheim ! I wist not what 
it was, but I apprehend that thy wrath and thy 
curse hath rent the heavens. From whence 
cometh this angry flash, this deafening roar, that 
awful quaking? Out of the bowels of Muspelheim 


CAIN. 


371 


make ye the emblem of thine wrath to burst forth. 
. Hadiwist thine omnipotence, 0 Alfadur ! 0 Al- 
fadur !” 

He bowed over his sword, restored it to its 
sheath, and disappeared among the vines at the 
end of the arbor. 

“What strange language,’^ remonstrated Ed- 
ward. “He addressed his words of devotion to 
one Alfadur. Doubtless he is a pagan.^^ 

“He seems to have customs and proclivities like 
a Norseman,^^ put in Leland. “The Greeks had 
their thirty thousand gods; the Gomerians defied 
their ancient kings; the Chaldeans and Romans 
violated their most natural affections by murder- 
ing their children and their prisoners; and the 
Danes of Iceland — are they not worshippers of 
strange gods?’^ 

They were silent for some time, during which 
slight oscillations of the ground could be felt. A 
strange stillness oppressed the surroundings, and 
a deep, fearful sensation crept over the hushed 
intruders. But at last Leland spoke: 

“Edward, we are prisoners. We can never es- 
cape from this prison now. Did you see the old 
man fasten the huge stone door?’^ 

“Yes, but surely we can escape. He will be 
generous and turn us out.” 

“But the uncertainty of it will be such a dread- 
ful suspense. I warned you not to make this ad- 
venture. You know that I persisted that we 
should not trespass; but nothing would do you 
but come in. And now if you were to be devoured 
by all the gods of the infernal pagan land, or cap- 
tured by all the deities of heathendom and placed 


372 


CAIN. 


on an icy throne upon the summit of Iceland’s 
tallest yokul, where you would be compelled to 
reign in your royal but cool majesty, while the 
whole Danish populace fell down and worshipped 
you in your royal highness and coolness, it would 
be nothing more than you deserve.” 

Edward laughed good-humoredly. 

^^Kemember, old boy, that we are subject alike 
to the powers that be ; let us make the best of it.” 

Just then they were startled by the howl of a 
large, fierce dog snarling fiercely right against 
their faces, while a large, tall man, with gray 
beard and haughtily poised head, stood by with a 
chain in his hand with which he restrained the 
bloodthirsty canine. The old man gazed viciously 
at them a moment, then his voice was like a 
fierce howl as he spoke: 

“Ye infernal spies ! Ye villains ! What brought 
you here? Speak at once and speak the truth — 
speak ! Speak !” 

“We are lost, friend,” stammered Edward 
cowardly. 

“Hush ! Hush ! How dare you intrude upon my 
private premises? How callest thou me friend 
when you have wilfully and stealthily crept in 
here ! Ye are spies !” 

“You will permit us to be your friend then?” 

'^NoT he thundered. “Not by all the power 
of Alfadur and all his kingdoms! The anger 
and vengeance of Surtur is aroused. I knew that 
their anger was raging, for sawest not the fiam- 
ing universe and didst thou feel the violent 
tremor of the earth? And because you have tres- 
passed upon and polluted my sacred premises, I 


CAIN. 


373 


shall suffer the vengeance of the gods! I shall 
drive you from my sight, ye cursed devils 1^’ 

Leland rose and confronted the old gentleman 
with perfect calmness and respect. 

‘‘You are a reasonable man, I believe, sir; and 
I trust you will not judge us too harshly. We 
meant no harm whatever by being here. We are 
gentlemen and shall prove it if given half a 
chance — just kindly go with us to open the door, 
and we will bid you a final and affectionate fare- 
well.'*’ 

He looked at the old man and smiled amusedly. 
The old Dane had become perfectly calm, and 
he held out his hand and cordially grasped De- 
land’s. 

“I see, I see !” he said warmly. “Ye are both 
gentlemen. But that chap there” (indicating Ed- 
ward) “is so officiously intrusive, — so anxious to 
interpose into the affairs of others! You begged 
to remain outside, but his meddlesome nature 
lured you in with him. My vengeance shall not 
be against you. The inscription on the wall is 
meant only for those who are outlaws and who 
may sometimes, in their strolls over the country, 
find my happy, beautiful, hidden home. You, 
gentlemen, are the first to discover it. For many 
years I have lived here a recluse. Come with me 
and see where I have loved to live so long. You 
are distinguished gentlemen, I know, and I shall 
feel honored to have you in my home.” 

“Many thanks, kind sir. We beg to return to 
our yacht across the bay.” 

The old man seemed to be getting angry and 
irritated, and some peculiar intuition told them 


374 


CAIN. 


that to refuse his request would be as danger- 
ous as irritating an old lion. 

‘^^But if you really desire to have us in your 
home, we will abide with you a while,” put in 
Leland quickly. 

‘^Now that’s generous. Come on, lads, follow 
me.” 

They followed. Edward’s heart beat wildly as 
he thought hopefully that he would perhaps get 
to see the beautiful maiden who had so completely 
won his heart. The old man led them through 
the arbor to the beautiful mansion and up a series 
of granite steps. 

He opened the door of his fine mansion, and led 
them through the corridor, all draped in the rich- 
est crimson silk hangings, contrasted here and 
there with cream-colored appendages and snow- 
white satin draperies. On either side of them 
were beautiful sofas and plush-cushioned chairs 
and neat little artistic tables upon which numbers 
of photographs and fancy pictures were neatly 
arranged. Their feet sank noiselessly into the 
thick carpet. Above them great and beautiful 
chandeliers hung suspended by golden rods and 
chains. 

But the old Dane paused not here. Leading 
them on, he started up a flight of stairs that as- 
cended gracefully up through the magnificent 
building. Every wall, every railing, every 
column, every window was embellished with all 
the adorning beauty that the tasteful perception 
of the mind can conceive. No human eyes were 
ever more perfectly gratified by the refined beauty 
of a grander mansion or more excellent furnish- 


CAIN. 


375 


ings. But a strange stillness pervaded the rooms. 
They followed him till they stood with him in a 
room magnificent to behold. It was adorned with 
all the adorning excellency that wealth can oft'er. 
In one corner a shroud of violet draperies hung 
in rich folds by silver rings suspended from the 
ceiling, and concealing that portion of the room 
from view. He conducted them cautiously across 
the room, parted the folds of this drapery and 
whispered half aloud, “Fjonkon ! Fjonkon V’ 

The answer came sweet and low, ^‘What is it, 
father 

‘Ah, you awake, child?” 

“You waked me. I was dreaming.” 

“Are you well, daughter?” 

“Yes, father, I am well. Did you want me?” 

“No, no, child, take thy rest. Good-night.” 

“Good-night, father.” 

He turned away, and the curtains swung back 
together again. But Leland’s eyes failed not to 
catch a glimpse of the beautiful sleeper as she 
lay upon the little sofa. While he looked he 
had noticed the pale blue garment she wore. She 
had evidently lain down to rest without removing 
her day garments. 

The old Dane turned to his friends and beck- 
oned to them to follow him. Not a footstep 
could be heard on the soft carpet as they left 
the room. When they were out of the sumptuous 
chamber, the old pagan stopped and whispered: 

“I meant to show you my beautiful daughter if 
she were asleep, but she was too much awake to- 
night. Here, lads, shall be your resting-place. Be 
seated. I must repair to my private apartment 


376 


CAIN. 


for a while. Then I will return and we will have 
some wine.’’ He bowed and left them. 

They looked about upon the splendid structure 
and sumptuous furnishings of the room which 
they occupied, and wondered how such a magnifi- 
cent palace ever found its abode in so dreary a 
land as Iceland. Leland turned to his friend and 
remarked sarcastically : 

^^Now what have you accomplished? You 
brought me here to see a young, captivating Dan- 
ish maiden, but I have failed to see her. I am 
thinking that we will have to return to the ^Tjo- 
relei’ with a tale of a wonderful romance — a 
feminineless adventure !” 

He laughed heartily, but in a muffled tone. Ed- 
ward could only grin and sigh as if disappointed. 
He stretched himself full length upon the sofa 
and was soon asleep. Leland’s curiosity had been 
aroused to a degree beyond his usual tempera- 
ment, and he could not think of sleeping. An 
intense longing rankled in his bosom to see the 
face of that gracefully reclining woman he had 
seen on the little sofa in the shrouded chamber. 
He was touched with the voice. There was some- 
thing familiar in the rhythmical tone of it. H 
was too severe with my irony on Edward when 
I endeavored to ridivule his enthusiasm to see 
a Danish maiden,” thought Leland ; ^fflere am 
I, almost frantically wild to get only one little 
glimpse of another one. It is absurd in me, but 
I cannot help it.” 

These thoughts flew through his mind while 
his chum slumbered. For several minutes he sat 
with his face buried in his hands in deep medi- 


CAIN. 


377 


tation. Then he suddenly arose and smiled as he 
murmured inaudibly, “I will see her!” Then 
stealing his way to the narrow passage leading to 
the strange chamber, he entered it and stopped 
for a moment to listen. 

All was silent as the rock-cut tombs of antiquity, 
and he went on quietly to the shrouded cor- 
ner. He paused. What should he do? He was 
almost afraid to venture. But he must. 

Carefully parting the delicate silken folds, he 
looked in. He drew back, confused and aston- 
ished. His daughter, indeed! How could it be? 
Here lay she, the beautiful Hessione rescued from 
the jaws of the sea-monster by some strong Her- 
cules. He looked at her beautiful face, calm in 
sweet ropose. Her soft lashes touched the fair 
cheeks, half revealing a mischievous smile; and 
the corners of her finely-chiseled lips twitched 
charmingly as if a pleasant dream were tickling 
her young heart. Her beautiful hand lay list- 
lessly at her side, while with the other she held 
the rich, beautiful brown tresses that lay loosely 
over her shoulders. The lace at her wrist-band 
had fallen back, revealing her beautiful dimpled 
arms with their load of precious jewels. 

^‘Here lies the beautiful priestess of Aphrodite,” 
he thought to himself, ‘‘and I, the captivated 
Leander of Abydos, have received the painless but 
incurable wound from Cupid’s love-shaft and 
have fortunately swum over a wide Hellespont 
to see her.” 

He gazed at her with such rapture in his heart 
that he felt that his eyes, his soul, could drink in 
the beauty of her face forever. She seemed to be 


378 


CAIN. 


sleeping in perfect peace. While he lavished his 
gaze of admiration upon her, she chanced to open 
her eyes and look at him, and he happened to 
be smiling. She looked vacantly at him. Her 
calm features and clear, brown eyes betokened 
something of a strange bewilderment. Then Le- 
land called tenderly: 

‘‘Mamie ! My darling Mamie !” 

She smiled pensively as she rose from her sofa 
and came toward him. 

“Ah, Leland ! How strange that you are here ! 
Oh, Mr. Burnett, can it really be you 

He took her little hand in his, pressed it spas- 
modically between his fingers, then lifted it ten- 
derly to his lips. How he longed to take her in 
his arms as he had once done in the silent sanc- 
tuary of the magnificent Temple. 

“Yes, Mamie; but it is still stranger that I find 
you so far away from your home and residing in 
the home of an Iceland-dweller.” 

She only smiled, while a few stray tears stole 
down her beautiful cheeks. Then she looked up 
into his face with a strange perplexity and con- 
fusion in her eyes. 

“What brought you to this strange land?’^ she 
inquired. 

He told her in a few words of his pleasure trip 
in the North seas, of his accompanying friend, 
Mr. Linden, and of his beautiful new yacht, the 
“Lorelei.’’ For several moments he stood by her, 
talking tenderly of the days gone by, rehearsing 
many tender, sacred memories still sad, yet which 
had a comforting virtue about them. 

To her he seemed a noble king. She felt as 


CAIN. 


379 


though environed in the midst of a halo of para- 
disical bliss. His voice was a sound of sweetest 
music ; his face the personification of consum- 
mate beauty. 

In the midst of their felicity, Leland almost 
forgot how the time was fleeing. He looked at his 
watch and exclaimed: “I declare, I must return 
to Edward ! What a wonderful discovery I have 
made! Darling Mamie, I praise God that He 
'has helped me to find you at last. 0, you pre- 
cious sweet child, how could I ever have lived 
without you.” 

His lips touched her hand, and he added : ‘^May 
I come back to see you again?” 

trust that you will visit us now and then 
before you go back to America,” she whispered 
softly as she looked up into his face with fond 
eyes swimming in tears of love. 

“I shall be pleased to do so,” he said as he 
bowed over her little hand and kissed it. 

Something in her eyes like a tender, appeal- 
ing supplication caused him to linger near her, 
then he turned to go. He left her standing like 
a beautiful, happy angel amid the glory of her 
richly embellished chamber, and was soon stand- 
ing over his friend Edward and tickling his face 
with the fringed ends of a tassel that hung over 
the sofa. Edward awoke and sat up, rubbing his 
eyes. 

Just then the old Dane entered the room and an- 
nounced that he was ready to receive them in his 
parlor. They were conducted to the lower floor 
and into a grand drawing-room. In all the great 
house there was no room so sumptuously fur- 


380 


CAIN. 


nished as this one. Offering them chairs, he rang 
a bell, and soon a little Frenchwoman appeared. 

^^Bring some wine, Gerda, and the glasses and 
waiter to serve it on. Also fetch the ‘Danish Fa- 
vorite.’ ” 

The maiden gazed with astonishment at the 
visitors. Their presence was a wonder. How did 
they ever find their way to this mysterious house? 
But she did not tarry, but alertly obeyed orders. 
In a short time she re-entered the drawing-room, 
came to the little table, lowered the salver, ar- 
ranged the sparkling wines and liquors mechani- 
cally, and stepped back to await the further sum- 
mons of the master. 

“If Thalia has returned, tell her that Amphion 
Maldemar hath requested her to come into the 
drawing-room.” 

After a few moments there was a rustling at 
the door, and the child Thalia entered the room. 
Her beautiful hair was crowned with jewels; her 
partially bare arms adorned with sparkling gold- 
en bracelets; her elegant figure attired in rich- 
est sky-blue satin ; her little feet encased in snow- 
white, golden-buckled slippers appearing daintily 
beneath the pretty ruffles of her skirt. She glanced 
at the gentlemen, then turned to the old Dane 
and said sweetly, in a low tone: 

“Here I am, good Amphion.” 

While the old man drew the beautiful child 
down to him and whispered something to her 
and kissed her fair cheeks, Edward whispered to 
Leland : 

“There, there ! Do you call that a ‘rustic 
maiden of Iceland’? That is the same maiden 


CAIN. 381 

whom I met across the Fioheim. See ! how beau- 
tiful 

Until now Leland had not seen her face, but 
there was something sweet and familiar in her 
voice. 

The old man arose, took the beautiful girl by 
the arm, led her up before the gentlemen, and in 
his peculiar ancient custom introduced her first 
to Edward. He rose and bowed, and she ad- 
dressed him with a pleasant smile of recognition. 
But her lovely eyes fell as she noticed the won- 
derful smile on his face. 

Turning to Leland, who had risen, the polite 
old Dane extended the formal introduction to 
him. But the maiden drew back and gazed 
blankly at Leland with a strange bewilderment. 
Leland was confused, yet he fully recognized the 
face before him. He smiled and said in that ten- 
derest tone which always sounded the deepest, pur- 
est passion of his soul : 

“Lilian, is it possible that you do not recog- 
nize me?’^ 

“0 Leland! My precious brother!’’ 

She fiew to him and threw her dimpled arms 
about his neck and kissed him repeatedly, utter- 
ing words of delight and rejoicing. For a brief 
interval they stood clasped in each other’s arms, 
saying not a word, Lilian too much overjoyed 
for words, and Leland weeping too much even to 
try to speak. 

It was indeed Lilian Billion, the lost child of 
the lonely broken-hearted mother. Leland held 
her in his arms as he resumed his seat, and she 


3«2 CAIN. 

clung to him, hiding her bright face against his 
heart. 

As great and incomparable as the joys of 
heaven and its beautiful angels are, is it any won- 
der to think that there is no joy and gladness 
sweeter than the blissfulness in the hearts of a 
lost brother and sister who at last meet again 
and clasp each other to their hearts ? God was giv- 
ing to Leland and Lilian Dillion that ineffable 
joy which only the lost who are found can know. 
Oh, what a tender pathetic scene to see two chil- 
dren who had been lost from each other so long 
again clasped in each other’s embrace! A sis- 
ter’s love is so pure; a brother’s love is so pas- 
sionate and strong! 

The old Dane was perplexed. Taking a seat 
by Edward, he inquired of him what such strange 
proceeding meant. But Edward was equally curi- 
ous to know. To relieve the ensuing embarrass- 
ment, the old Dane offered him another glass of 
wine and began to talk. Meanwhile Leland ten- 
derly lifted the tear-stained face to his lips and 
fondly kissed it. 

‘‘Lilian, 1 never dreamed of finding you here. 
I have spent great sums of money and searched 
the world over for you, and had almost given up 
in despair. But I never would have thought of 
finding you here. Tell me all, how you came 
here.” 

She smiled and pointed cautiously toward the 
old Dane. 

“Not now, Leland,” she whispered. Then she 
seated herself close to him, looked tenderly up 
into his face and said: “You sought me for 


CAIN 


:^83 


mother’s sake, did you not?” 

“Yes, and because ” 

“Because you loved me, too ; yes, I know !” 
She laughed softly. 

“I was afraid you were in distress.” 

“No, no, never for one moment since I have 
come into this beautiful, quiet home. Of course, 
I have longed to see mother.” 

“But you were stolen from home and carried 
away ?” 

“Oh, yes, I will tell you all. The abductor found 
me reading and seized me. I tried to scream, but 
he placed his big, rough hand over my mouth and 
smothered my voice. I was carried away, I know 
not how or where, and was kept blindfolded until 
I found myself looking through the iron bars of 
some great castle-prison which stood looking over 
the precipice of a tall, dreary cliff into the sea. 
There I was starving with hunger, without a 
friend, without a home, without a mother’s care! 
At last the good Amphion yonder chanced to see 
me one day looking through the bars with tears 
in my eyes. He became sorry for me, and 
shouted from the deck of his ship, asking why I 
was in prison. I could not tell him. He ven- 
tured to investigate the matter, whereupon he 
learned from the dreary, disguised owner of the 
castle that I was a prisoner of his, which he was 
keeping in custody as a kidnapped charge, and for 
whose release he demanded a great ransom — a 
million dollars. Good Amphion paid them and 
gave me my freedom, and brought me here to his 
beautiful home.” 


384 CAIN. 

There was a brief silence, which Edward broke, 
saying : 

“It seems that there are few, if any, inhabi- 
tants in this part of Iceland other than yon, Mr. 
Maldemar 

“There is not another dweller nearer than the 
village, which is about seven miles away,^^ an- 
swered the Dane. 

“This is about the prettiest part of Iceland, 
is it not?’^ 

“This is at least one of the prettiest localities. 
Besides that, it is such a desirable place for 
eider-duck raising, and these verdant slopes and 
valleys furnish abundant pastures for my sheep 
and cattle. And I derive a handsome profit from 
my codfish export.” 

“It seems that it has been an easy matter for 
you to get rich here,” put in Leland. The old 
man laughed good-humoredly. 

“Of course, I have had it all to myself, and if I 
am a millionaire, I cannot boast, for I have sim- 
ply taken care of what my substance has yielded 
me, which has been by no means a difficult task.” 

“You have needed no neighbors then.” 

“I have seen the time when I would have ap- 
preciated a good neighbor very much, but they 
are so treacherous here in Iceland that I can’t 
trust any one. They all hate me and fear me be- 
cause I am what they call a pagan. Some of 
them call me a god, some call me a wizard, and 
some call me a devil calculated to instigate mis- 
chief among the gods.” 

“Yet you would not exchange your beautiful 


C A’ I N . ^ 385 

home for all the kingdoms in the great South- 
land.” 

indeed I would not !” 

‘‘Iceland is such a beautiful land along the 
coast,” said Edward. 

“Iceland is a wonder-island to all the world. 
Englishmen are frequently met here in the 
southern waters of Iceland, and they often pene- 
trate to the great dreary lava and sand plateau 
on the interior. They all become perfectly 
charmed with the beautiful wild scenery. You, 
gentlemen, are the first Americans I have ever 
met in the Northland. If you will come back to- 
morrow, I will take you around to the many places 
of interest and show you something worth see- 
ing. The scenes are so rare and beautiful that 
the memory of them causes a feeling of deep re- 
gret when one has left them, and one thinks of 
them again years afterward. Indeed it is hard 
to turn away from them at all.” 

“Thank you, Mr. Maldemar. We shall be sure 
to take advantage of your hospitality,” answered 
Edward heartily. 

“Yes,” put in Leland eagerly, “you may look 
for us.” 

“Is your yacht at anchor on the Oerajalf ?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Then we will join you there to-morrow — 
Thalia and my child and myself. It will be bet- 
ter to sail in your yacht, as my vessel is need- 
ing repairs.” 

“Very well, we gladly welcome you,” granted 
Leland. 

They rose to go, and after they had refused 


386 


CAIN. 


courteously several requests to stay longer, the 
old man arose to conduct them to the stone gate. 
Leland kissed his sister tenderly. She looked up 
sweetly and whispered: 

^^You must come back often. There is some one 
here that you would give your life to see.” 

^Ah, sister, you are cunning. You set a trap 
and bait it with something to decoy me back.” 

“No, brother, I am serious. My dear govem- 


“Hush! Hush! I know she is here.” 

Just then Edward came up to bid Lilian good- 
by, and Leland joined the old Dane, who was just 
then stepping into the corridor. Edward lin- 
gered with Lilian, who walked slowly with him 
to the veranda. 

As Leland and the old Dane walked slowly 
down the arbor, the former asked: “Sir, did you 
know that the child whom you call Thalia is 
my sister?” 

“Yes, I know now that she is your sister,” he 
replied somewhat in a tone of regret. “Thalia 
told me that when she whispered to me in the 
drawing-room. She has often told me of you. I 
promised to take her back to America when I 
take my next and last voyage to the new foreign 
country next year. Next to my own child, she 
is the sweetest child in the world. The gods have 
endowed her with an immaculate soul and her 
exit from this life will be a peaceful transit to a 
glorious land of everlasting happiness.” 

Meanwhile Edward and Lilian stood near each 
other on the doorstep, where the tendrils and 
roses circled symmetrical over their heads. The 


CAIN. 


387 


sun was swimming in a crimson sea. It was 
morning. Edward stooped and whispered very 
tenderly: “The memory of your beautiful face 
will be forever the sweetest memory of my life. 
Ah, Miss Dillion, I shall never forget our sweet 
little romance on the Fjorheim !” 

He took her little hand in his and pressed it 
cordially. She had been looking into his face as 
he spoke till he mentioned the romance, when her 
eyes fell, a charming rosy color touched her 
cheeks, and a pleasing smile faintly played on 
her lips. 

She watched him till they were lost among the 
vines that clustered around the doorway. Tiny 
tears were stealing over her cheeks. She asked 
herself why. She threw her noble head back, a 
merry laugh rippling from her lips as she turned 
into the house. Involuntarily her hand sought 
her heart, for there was a peculiar sensation there 
she had never felt before. 

When the old Dane had conducted the gentle- 
men Ihrough the door he shook hands with them, 
saying: 

“May the peace of the gods attend you, is my 
richest benediction. Hick ah valla van dika ! I 
was gruff toward you w^hen I first met you, but I 
then had a presentiment that your intrusion had 
offended the gods, and that because of that of- 
fense the writhing Loki shook the earth. The 
great sons of Muspelheim ride the fiaming uni- 
verse and over the Bifrist bridge at such a time 
with the terrible fiames of anger about them. 
Some day Surtur, one of the sons and leader of 
Muspelheim, will dart fire over the world and the 


388 


CAIN. 


whole universe be burned up. The sun will be- 
come dim; the earth will sink into the ocean; the 
stars will fall from heaven; time will be no more. 
But we now part in peace. We are friends ; go in 
peace.” 

They parted, and the old Dane returned to his 
mansion. 

When Edward and Leland were once more upon 
the fiord, Leland laughed heartily. 

^^AVell, upon my soul, Edward, this wild esca- 
pade seems more romantic than the exciting, 
frightful traditions of ancient mythology.” 

^^Oh, yes, old boy, you are greatly indebted to 
me for this bit of romance. At first you ridiculed 
the idea; now you are wild over it. You are as 
fickle and changeable as these starless northern 
skies.” 

^Tndeed, I am greatly indebted to you, Ed- 
ward, for through your instrumentality I have 
found my lost sister. That child Thalia, with 
whom you were conversing on the doorstep, is my 
sister.” 

‘^Yes, she told me about it, and that beautifies 
a romance.” 

'^Yes, and may God be praised! And along 
with this I have made another discovery equally 
as pleasant to me.” 

^Tray tell me!” 

Their skiff drifted slowly as Leland told how he 
had found Mamie Homean while she slept in 
peace in her shrouded chamber. 

At length they reach the ‘"^Lorelei.” A glowijig 
orange sky curved perfectly over the ocean, which 
elowly became painted in purple and gold, pow- 


CAIN. 


389 


dered here and there with opalescent tints. As tha 
rising waves swelled over the ocean’s bosom, a 
stubborn breeze touched the spray with the magic 
touch that caused it to glow' like a silver plume. 
The low murmur sounded musically over the wa- 
ter, then swelled to a monotonous tone that 
seemed to come over the silver-crested waves like 
the cries of a moaning w'anderer lost in some un- 
known isle of a lonely sea. 

Leland paused to look at the spectrum of 
heavenly glory. Its color quivered for a moment, 
then a changing hue overmasked the splendor and 
a perfect golden light shone from the entire uni- 
verse. The mountains swam in the golden flood 
like a visionary scene of Elysian fields, all 
wrapped in the vapory gauze of the sea maze. 
The peaceful mantle of tranquillity brooded over 
the paradisical scene, and the charming effect 
upon the sense of appreciation was beyond the 
power of human language to express. 

Leland smiled as if gratified with the enchant- 
ing beauty, then turned and joined Edward, wb 
was chattering away with Paix in the music sa- 
loon. 

The night had been spent in absolute wakeful- 
ness, therefore Leland retired to his cabin to 
sleep. Edward accepted a challenge from the 
expert billiardist, Paix, and for some time the 
clash of their balls and the ring of their laughter 
sounded over the Oerajalf. 

Then all was quiet. 


390 


CAIN. 


CHAPTER XXIX. 

Leland Burnett Dillion’s yacht was a most 
magnificent structure, and it looked grand as 
it fioated at anchor on the Oerajalf. Leland 
went to the expense of one million dollars to fit 
her up for his purpose. It was a sea-vessel of 
costly construction. But few vessels more lav- 
ishly elaborate than the ^^Lorelei’^ and her fitting 
and decorations could enter the conception of the 
human mind. Exquisite paintings by some of the 
most celebrated artists adorned the saloons and 
cabins. All the woodwork was elaborately carved. 
There was a fine library, a billiard room and a 
music-saloon aboard, also a beautiful white mar- 
ble fountain, while some of the ornaments were 
of the rarest. 

Three magnificent suites of rooms or apart- 
ments were on board, devoted to the use of Le- 
land, his friend, Edward, and whoever might be 
the occasional guest. 

The dining-room was paneled with tulip-wood. 
The door-handles, finger-plates and lamp-fittings 
were of heavily carved silver. 

The magnificent yacht contained also a fine 
marble bath-room, with heavy silver fittings, and 
the walls and doors of the principal cabin were 
heavily inlaid with ivory and mother of pearl. 


CAIN. 


391 


Therefore, having a very beautiful interior, splen- 
did accommodation for both crew and passengers, 
if any passengers desired to be on board, and of 
magnificent proportions, and also considering her 
beauty and purpose, she might be termed the most 
convenient and most sumptuous yacht afloat. 

It was in one of the magnificent saloons that 
the voyagers were assembled the next day after 
the romance on the little island, engaged in con- 
versation. They had discussed the phenomenon 
of the volcanic frequency and the continual 
tremor of the earth. Their pilot said that the 
shock that had occurred the day previous was the 
most violent shock that the island had felt for 
many years. Finding that Rheubin, the pilot, 
was somewhat acquainted with the surroundings, 
Leland proceeded to question him. 

^^Uncle Rheubin, do you know a gentleman liv- 
ing near this place by the name of Amphion Mal- 
d^mar 

The old pilot fondled his beard dubiously, and 
looked grave. 

^Tf I be not mistaken, there is no one whose 
abode is within the vicinity of these parts of Ice- 
land. But I remember having met an old sailor 
in southern seas by that name.” 

‘^What is the name of his ship?” 

^'He was proud to call her his fleeting 81cid- 
bladnir, I remember well,” laughed Rheubin. 

Leland glanced at Edward with an air of satis- 
faction, for this statement corroborated the fact 
that they had seen the old man’s favorite Slcid- 
hladnir floating at anchor near the little island. 

“He is a sailor, then,” remarked Edward. 


392 


CAIN. 


‘‘Many years ago he was. I have not seen him 
these many years. He always took his beautiful 
wife with him wherever he went, but she died. 
Then he had one beautiful little girl left, but one 
day she suddenly disappeared from him, leaving 
him bereft of all that was dear to him.” 

“Are there any noted caverns about here ?” 
asked Edward carelessly. Eheubin looked at him 
with a keen, quick, suspicious glance; and after 
hesitating a moment, said briefly, “No, sir.” 
There was a long pause, then Edward asked: 

“What means ‘Naomi’?” 

“Naomi? Why, it has no special significance, 
I think,” but there was an uneasiness in his man- 
ner. “Why do you ask?” 

“Oh, I just asked because I thought of the 
name.” 

“You have seen Naomi?” 

“No, not that I know of, but I have seen the 
name.” 

Eheubin looked at him curiously. 

“You have been in the doomed Elvidnir, then?” 
he asked. 

“The doomed what?” 

“Elvidnir is an ancient cavern only a short 
way from here. It is a haunted cave, gloomy, 
deep and dark ! You are made of the stuff that 
grows knights and heroes if you have dared to 
venture into its dismal haunts.” 

Edward’s answer was neither affirmative nor 
negative. He simply laughed lazily. 

It was clear to Leland that Eheubin was igno- 
rant of Amphion’s native land and of whether he 
was yet living. 


CAIN. 393 

The conversation turned into the usual chan- 
nels. 

Amphion Maldemar was a true, stalwart pagan. 
His proclivities were such that contemplated 
many gods and heroes. He was firm and rigid in 
his convictions, yet lenient with those who dif- 
fered from him. He was quick, impetuous, easily 
angered, fierce in his insatiable mad passions; yet 
he had a mild, tender temperament when not 
angry that completely won every heart to him. 
He hated everything that was untrue, and utterly 
abhorred everything not pure. Once he was a 
sailor in the southern seas, but now he went to 
souhtem waters about once in five years. Some 
peculiar circumstances occurring many years be- 
fore had wrought a great change in him. Since 
that time he had been a recluse, withdrawing him- 
self from the world and all mankind. He was a 
descendant of the ancient Danish royal family — 
Amphion was by birth a King! 

Amphion firmly believed that a time would 
come when all the visible creation, the gods of 
Valhalla and Niffleheim, the inhabitants of Alf- 
heim and Midgard, together with their habita- 
tions, would be destroyed. But before all this 
there would be a triple winter, during which 
great, prodigious quantities of snow would fall 
from the four corners of the heavens, the frost 
would be very severe, the wind piercing, the 
weather dreary and stormy and a gloom of dark- 
ness wrap the world in dismal oblivion. Three 
of these tempestuous winter seasons would rage 
over the chaotic, storm-beaten world without the 
intervention of a single milder season. After that 


894 


CAIN. 


there would be three other winters in successionj 
during which war and contention would pervade 
over the earth and through the universe. He be- 
lieved that Loki would howl with horror and twist 
his body with great violence till the whole earth 
would tremble, the sea leave its bed, the heavens 
be rent asunder, and men perish in great num- 
bers. Great turmoil and strife would exist among 
the gods and heroes, and all the world would rush 
together, and there would then ensue a terrible 
slaughter and massacre such as has never yet been 
known. The great heroes of Muspelheim, the 
Norseman’s awful and horrible fire-world — the 
volcano’s fiery bed, which has been for the many, 
many ages past the dread and superstition and 
fear and horror of the strange Norsemen — would 
hurry across the universe, led by Surtur, before 
and "behind whom were flames and burning fire. 
Heimdall would sound the great Gialler horn that 
great da}^, and every god and hero would rush to 
the battle-field called Vigrid, where they would 
meet in contest with the great Frost Giants. The 
contest would terminate in the final destruction 
of all who engaged in the battle. Then Surtur, 
seeing that all the gods have fallen and all the 
heroes slain, would hurl fire and seething, sweep- 
ing flames over the world, and the whole universe 
be burned up, ‘The sun become dim, the earth 
sink into the ocean, the stars fall from heaven — 
and time would be no more.” 

His conception of this mysterious existence did 
not stop at that. There was yet another existence 
more beautiful in its virtue, and which called for 
something like an Eternity. He believed that 


CAIN. 


395 


after this end of time would come a more de- 
lightful existence. A new heaven and a new 
earth would arise out of the sea, and this would 
be peopled with an immaculate race. He knew 
not what to call this new existence, but was con- 
tent to believe that it would be, and that Alfadur, 
a grander and more supreme deity, would reign 
supremely as its omnipotent creator ! It would 
be a world of consummate beauty, abundant sup- 
plies, supreme felicity ; wickedness and misery 
would be no more known, but the gods and men 
and heroes would live happily together forever. 

Amphion Maldemar had lived many years, and 
the older he grew the more firmly he became fixed 
in his strange religious proclivities. The moun- 
tains might be tumbled into the seas, the great 
world drop into darkest oblivion; but he would 
remain unmoved, undaunted, fearless, honest in 
his convictions; and whatever might be the result 
of all this great mysterious machinery's working 
power that so mysteriously moves the universe, 
he was Amphion Maldemar, the King, the true 
pagan Norseman ! — the same to-day, to-morrow 
and forever. 

Leland had gone upon deck, and was watching 
the novel scenes that continually played upon the 
sky. There was no conception of beauty that could 
half-way rival its beauty and glory. As he looked 
out over the breeze-blown ocean, he saw a boat 
slowly approaching the vessel from the direction 
of the little island. It seemed long in coming, 
but at length drew up near the vessel, and a mas- 
culine voice hailed him from the boat. 

‘^Velcome ! Thrice welcome cried Leland 


396 


CAIN. 


with joy, waving his cap at him as a salute. It 
was Amphion Maldemar, with the two princesses. 
In a short time they were on deck, receiving the 
hearty reception of Leland and his friends. They 
were conducted to Leland’s finest saloon. 

^‘'By the gods V’ exclaimed the Dane, “"how art 
and architecture have advanced these latter years ! 
Young Dillion, your yacht is indeed a grand one. 
No doubt you are proud of it.” 

“I am, indeed, very grateful to you for your 
praise. Yes, I am more than proud, I am thank- 
ful to own so valuable a vessel.” 

Presently Paix entered the saloon. He bowed 
demurely to the ladies with the cunning smile 
lurking in his eyes. 

^^Why, Mr. Paix!” exclaimed both ladies at 
once, rising to sha kehis hand. ‘^All this is such a 
delightful surprise ! I am so glad to see you.” 

^^Thanks, thanks. I know you do deem it quite 
fortunate to strike such a valuable friend as I, — 
as though I had been one of mankind’s most lib- 
eral benefactors.” He laughed sarcastically. 

^^Why, Mr. Paix, you do yourself injustice by 
such ridicule,” ejaculated Lilian. 

Leland rose and presented Paix to the old 
Dane. The lively conversation was renewed. 

After a while Edward suggested a perambu- 
lating upon the deck, to which all agreed. Then 
he arose and accompanied the Dane. Paix took 
Lilian upon his arm and followed. But Leland 
and Mamie remained in the room, engaged in in- 
audible conversation. He was saying: 

^^But I, who have always regarded you so ten- 
derly, have an undeniable right to know why you 


C A I . 


397 


have chosen to live in the sequestered land, far 
from home, friends and loved ones. Oh, child, 
tell me why you elude me in every feasible way 
possible? Mamie, you may spend your life to 
conquer that never-dying love in your heart for 
me, but when you come to the last of your days, 
you will find that even to the very last struggle 
that love will be victorious, and will stand un- 
marred, undaunted, intrepid, and without a 
wound, over the conscience which it has slain, 
and claim its idol for which it shall have been so 
long in contest.’^ 

She had not been looking up at him while he 
was speaking, but when he had finished she looked 
up from the little silken tassel which she had 
been fondling, and there were tears in her lovely 
eyes and a pitiful tremor crossed her lips. She 
looked pleadingly for a moment. They were 
silent. The music of his wonderful, familiar 
voice brought back to her tender, sacred memories 
of the time when she had heard that voice echo- 
ing in the Temple back at dear old ^‘Gethsemane,” 
and it touched her heart with that same passion- 
ate yearning for him whose perverted life she had 
so bitterly disdained. She had thought that all af- 
fections for him were conquered, but now the 
flitting arrows of Cupid renewed the old painless 
wound, and her heart again began to drip with 
the blood of a never-healing, torturing love. 

“It is exceedingly painful to rehearse all the 
tender, sacred reminiscences that are suggested to 
my memory at the sound of your voice and by 
your presence. But I sometimes think that these 
memories are helpful to us. So you will please 


398 


CAIN. 


pardon these flowing tears She brushed them 
away, smiled pensively and continued: ^‘Yes, you 
have a right to know why I am here. And, of 
course, there is associated with the fact a deep, 
inexpressible strangeness to those who do not 
know the simple circumstances. Indeed, who 
would ever have thought that I would have come 
to se remote, so friendless, so desolate a place as 
Iceland? Not even myself. Nevertheless, I came 
here through a mysterious providence. 

‘^It was the beautiful night when you saw me 
standing by the river Tiber that forms the con- 
necting link of my past life with the events of my 
life in this beautiful land. You, of course, re- 
member that beautiful moonlight night, that 
night when you knelt by me and pleaded for my 
life. I was then in very feeble health and almost 
at the point of hopeless despair. It was there, 
when you refused to hear me and when you hur- 
ried abruptly away from me in seemingly bitter- 
est disdain, that the last thread of hope snapped 
and despair seized me. When you had gone, I 
can remember nothing except seeing two boats 
drifting upon the river’s eddy-water at their place 
of mooring; and that in my frenzied, distorted 
mind I got into one of them and determined to go 
back to America that I might at least die satis- 
fied and in peace in my beautiful home on the 
Cumberland. Of course, I was foolish, but I 
was in a state of frenzy. I fancied I could see 
my beautiful mother looking down from heaven 
upon me. I was so happy and so free from pain. 
The beautiful ripples on the river turned to gold 
and seemed like millions of tiny golden shells cov- 


CAIN. 


S99 


ering the face of the deep water. There was 
music in my soul, and with an inspiration of rap- 
ture, I began to sing to mother. But just then a 
sudden darkness enshrouded me, and I fell in- 
sensible. They say I was unconscious for weeks 
— I donT know — I remember only that the first 
time I knew anything was one day, several weeks 
afterward, when I awoke perfectly conscious to 
find myself lying upon a beautiful couch with 
silk draperies hanging about me — I awoke where 
you found me yesterday. 

"Leland, you have always wanted to know of 
what type or race I was. My mother was a 
purely American woman, though she sleeps in a 
dreary tomb away here in Iceland. My father is 
of Danish descent, and is no other than the old 
man whom you call Amphion Maldemar. It was 
a kind act of Providence that my father chanced 
to be sailing in southern seas and found my little 
wave-tossed bark drifting over the billows with 
me in it. He took me in, and said I was so like 
my mother that he was almost sure that I was his 
lost child; and to satisfy himself, he looked for 
the little diamond bead necklace that my mother 
gave me to wear. When he found it, he knew 
that I was his child, for there is a little locket 
with it here — I will show you,” and she took it 
from her neck and held it so he could see. ^‘See, 
it has her name, Naomi, on it. Beyond a doubt I 
was his lost child. He brought me to Iceland and 
took me into his palatial home, which stands hid- 
den yonder on the little island. 

“But the supremest joy of my new experience 
was when I saw the face of your precious sister, 


400 


CAIN. 


Lilian. Oh, I could not believe it at first. I had 
been awakened to consciousness only a little while 
when I heard footsteps lightly treading across the 
room ; the curtains moved, and lo ! her sweet face 
appeared from the curtains, wearing a smile. I 
was bewildered for a moment. If an angel had 
appeared at the door of my shrouded chamber T 
could not have been more astonished. Then I 
recognized her fully. I called my long-lost pupil, 
my sweet little friend, and she fell down upon her 
knees by my little couch and showered my face 
over with kisses and cried for great joy. Oh, it 
was such a happy meeting ! We have lived so 
happy here together. She is the sweetest child I 
ever knew, so meek, so pure, so intelligent, so do- 
cile. In each others society we have beguiled the 
hours that would have been otherwise lonely and 
dreary. We have roamed together over the deep 
valleys and high yokuls of Iceland as we did many 
happy days back at dear old ^Gethsemane.’ One 
of us visits my mother’s grave very regularly.” 
She paused to brush away the tears, then con- 
tinued sadly: ^Tt is a dreary place here some- 
times; and though I love my father, I sometimes 
wish I were back at beautiful old ^Gethsemane’ 
as I used to be in days gone by. I have asked my 
father to leave this strange place and go with me 
to America, where all my pleasant, familiar asso- 
ciations are, but there is some relentless power 
holding him here, and it has even sequestered 
him to a hidden abode of perfect seclusion. He 
never associates with any one. Many years ago 
he withdrew from the faces and friendship of 


0 A I N . 401 

mankind. He claims his reason to be a sacred 
one.” 

At this juncture the perambulating party re- 
turned, and soon preparations were being made to 
take leave for their previously arranged sailing. 
When all was ready, Leland ordered Rheubin to 
set sail for Skada fiord, and they soon were glid- 
ing over the deep, clear water in a southerly direc- 
tion. The sea was calm, and the glorious sun 
shone with a brilliant radiance. The party were 
all out on deck, enjoying the delightful sailing and 
the grand scenery. The land was like the incline 
of an amphitheatre running down to the water. 
The clumps of trees, elevations of rocks and the 
chains of distant hills presented a charming, pic- 
turesque scene. Great fiocks of eider-ducks sailed 
over now and then, and continued their flight to 
scale the crest of some distant cliff of perch on 
some verdant island. Occasionally the flapping 
of wings would cause them to look up and see a 
large ember-goose sailing over. Aside from this 
and the occasional bleating of the sheep that 
grazed on the grassy slopes, all was perfectly calm 
and quiet. 

^Tt would be remarkable,” said Leland as he 
dived into a large red apple, ^fif Mr. Linden, be- 
ing the scientist that he claims to be, could not 
tell us how to find the Gulf Stream.” 

‘And it would also be remarkable,” answered 
Edward drily, “if you could not tell me after I 
had told you.” 

“Oh, is Mr. Linden a scientist?” asked Lilian, 
pleasantly surprised. 

“Yes, I establish phenomena and scientific 


402 


CAIN. 


problems on the surface of silly pedantry — ^you 
remember that Billion wished in a kind of cir- 
cumlocutory way, and at my expense, to display 
the grand fact that he knew there was a ^Gulf 
Stream/ ” 

There was a hearty laugh, and Edward felt 
satisfied with his remark. 

“Mr. Linden seems to take a delight in delving 
into Natural or Human Philosophy with his 
science,” rejoined Leland good-humoredly. “He 
wants to leave the impression that his knowledge 
of the varied sciences is by no means limited — a 
shrewd method by which to elude the necessity of 
admitting that he cannot tell us anything about 
the Gulf Stream.” 

The smiles on every face were evidence that 
these exchanges of irony were appreciated. 

“Mr. Billion is inclined to want to bring about 
a discussion on science that he might possibly 
have an opportunity to show that he is somewhat 
of a scientist himself.” 

“Mr. Maldemar, the young scientist will do 
well if he can produce a phenomenon for all that 
you will show him to-day?” asked Leland of the 
old Bane, who was much amused and who seemed 
to be drawn out from his somber mood, habitual 
with him, into high spirits. 

“Yes,” said the old man thoughtfully, “there 
are geological features in Iceland’s great yokuls 
that no scientist has ever heard of. I am sure 
he will find food for his brain if he is hungry for 
scientific research.” 

“Pshaw, this is all out of the question,” ejaculat- 
ed Edward. “Science isn’t to be regarded when a 


CAIN. 


403 


delightful pleasure-trip is on hand. I do not 
propose to take it on myself to be Grand Oracle of 
this party, even if you do hint strongly your de- 
sire for such a misfortune.’’ 

‘^Edward is very much interested in romantic 
science since a few days ago,” said Leland with a 
significant laugh; then he turned away to talk to 
the old Dane, who was gazing at the dark outline 
of the distant fiord to which they were going. 

“Eomantic science,” said Edward to Lilian, 
who was by his side, ^‘'that is the best science after 
all, isn’t it?” 

do not know, Mr. Linden ; I believe it is, — I 
am almost sure it is,” she said with a mischievous 
smile. 

^^What makes you wear such a happy face to- 
day, Miss Dillion?” asked Edward wistfully. 

“I suppose it is because I am happy,” she said 
carelessly. 

''Quite likely, but that is quite a pointed, de- 
cisive answer, — I wonder if you could turn out a 
good many such brief but clear answers in the 
course of an hour’s conversation?” 

She laughed heartily, more surprised than 
amused at his peculiar wit and agreeable humor. 

"I don’t know, Mr. Linden, I have never been 
so strangely interrogated.” Her eyes were brim- 
ming with suppressed laughter. "I am sure I can 
manufacture a great many — one for every query 
put to me like the one I have just disposed of.” 

"You are a strange hostess. Miss Dillion.” 

"That is quite a compliment, I am sure,” and 
she looked off toward the ocean indifferently and 
tossed an apple-core into the water. Edward 


404 


CAIN. 


studied her face critically for a moment. He was 
not in the least baffled or discomfited by her quick 
and seemingly indifferent answers; rather he was 
just warded off. He was amused at her. While 
he gazed at her, his ingenious mind was contriv- 
ing a pleasant, amusing question that was inof- 
fensive and amusing in its self-gratifying pur- 
pose. 

^‘Miss Dillion,’^ he began, leaning lazily over 
the railing that he might get a fair look into her 
face, ^Vhat manner of speech would you suggest 
that I use in asking you questions? 1 am eager 
to fall upon my knees before your Majesty to do 
you honor, — you are a queen, you know; your 
quick, decisive answers are only, and can be only 
the prerogatives of one 'speaking with authority’ 
— a Majesty! 'Speak, for thy servant heareth.’ ” 
He laughed a little at her puzzled expression. 

"Pointed questions are most agreeable,” she 
said at length. 

"Questions to the point, then?” 

"Oh, no !” she said, blushing a little. "1 mean 
questions not so much at random.” 

Edward was silent, smiling and almost laugh- 
ing. But he knew from the expression on her 
brow and in her eyes that he had ventured far 
enough on the subject under discussion. While 
he had begun to talk to her in sincerity, she had 
turned the conversation into a kind of sport in 
which she meant to amuse herself by tantalizing 
him. He knew, nevertheless, that she was anx- 
ious to change the subject. But he could not, 
however, content himself without taking a good 
hearty laugh at her. He knew that she had 


CAIN. 


405 


evaded the subject in his mind when he had asked 
the first question, and he thought that the best 
way to defend himself was by laughing at her, 
which he did successfully. There was a prolonged 
silence. 

‘‘Keally, do ^Coming events cast their shadows 
before them’?’’ asked Edward at length. 

‘^Vhy do you ask?” 

^^Why, I was wondering if our rambles and ex- 
cursions and sight-seeing where we are going will 
be as gloomy as the shadow it casts before it.” 

^And what is the shadow ? I see none.” 

‘‘You! I do declare you are the gloomiest piece 
of humanity I ever saw ! You stand there like a 
speechless mummy, never saying a word unless I 
break the silence.” 

“Quite complimentary ! You are a skilled 
physiognomist, or I am burdened with a marvel- 
ously changeable visage, for just a little while ago 
you were asking me why I wore such a happy 
face.” 

“That is very reasonable, for you know women 
are very changeable.” 

“How provoking! Is it any wonder that I am 
a strange hostess?” 

“Ah, this is all nonsense,” said Edward, trying 
to assume impatience. 

“If I am to do my part as hostess, I think I 
should have my choice as to what subject we dis- 
cuss.” 

“It shall be just as you say, most noble 
hostess,” he said, with a face whose expression 
would have looked like true submission, as he 
meant it to be, had he not been so full of laughter 


406 


CAIN. 


Her glance at him told her just how sincere h« 
was, and she smiled and looked away toward the 
shore. They were silent, for to Edward’s sur- 
prise she did not choose any subject to discuss. 
Nevertheless, he determined it should be so if 
she wanted it to be. 

At length they reached the Skada Fiord, and 
were soon on land, walking along in the dark 
shadow of a craggy cliff that looked dreary in 
every aspect of gloominess. The old Dane’s first 
instinctive thought was to take them into a dreary 

cavern. . 

"H like the adventure there is in exploring these 
great caves,” he explained as he led them into 
one. ‘^There is a peculiar fascination about their 
gloomy cells that always charms me.” 

‘‘You are not alone in your fascination,” said 
Leland, as they proceeded down a narrow gravelly 
avenue. ‘T think there are several of us who 
share the delights of this exploration.” 

“Oh, how romantic!” exclaimed Edward, paus- 
ing suddenly to realize the charms that surround- 
ed him. “This must be the abode of phantoms.” 

“If you don’t come on,” said Lilian sfi^^rtively, 
“you will be left to lose yourself in the labyrinth 
of phantoms.” 

“I will be like the poor, unfortunate Theseus, 
who was caught in the Labyrinth of Crete, won’t 
I?” askod Edward with a winning smile. “But 
it will be fortunate for me, provided you will be 
the good Ariadne and lead me out.” 

“No, I will not be so foolish as Ariadne was, — 
you remember she was deserted? Lilian laughed 
merrily. 


I 


CAIN. 


407 


suppose I had better go along with you all 
if I don’t want to get left,” he reasoned with an 
assumed air of dignity. ‘And just now I recall 
those sacred words, ‘If the blind lead the blind, 
they shall both fall into the ditch,’ which fact re- 
minds me to go along now.” 

Soon they were passing through a series of cells 
and vaults and chambers most magnificent in 
their beauty of scenery and novelties. To Ed- 
ward this cave was quite different from the one 
called the Sacred Tomb, for in this one there 
w^ere no indications of human inhabitants. 

On and on the old Dane led them through the 
dreary cavern, which seemed to have no end of 
dreary cells and chambers; and each chamber 
they entered was more gloomy and comfortless 
than the one preceding it. It was some time be- 
fore they at last emerged from the great cavern 
to find themselves standing in the open air on the 
other side of the huge cliff. They had penetrated 
through the massive bluff by way of the subter- 
ranean passage, and were facing a charming pros- 
pect of a broad tableland covered with sand and 
lava beds. The Dane led them on, pausing now 
and then to admire a beautiful geyser, a novel 
sulphur-pool or a horrible volcanic chasm. 

“It has been many years since I visited these 
parts,” said Amphion, as he turned to Leland and 
Paix, who were admiring the wild, gleaming 
beauty of the landscape with exclamations of de- 
light. “My w'ife and I used to come here years 
ago to camp here for a long time simply for the 
pleasure there was in it. We have spent many 
nappy days here, gathering curious stones from 


408 


CAIN. 


the sands which had been thrown from the great 
volcanic beds, and I would shoot the eider-ducks 
and geese and auks that resorted here in great 
numbers.’^ 

“You surely stay close to your beautiful home, 
then,^’ said Leland, glancing at Mamie, who was 
looking dreamily toward the huge, snow-covered 
mountain, that looked high and cold in the dis- 
tant northern sky. She was thinking of that pre- 
cious mother, and tears were in her eyes. 

“Yes, I like my old home,” said the old man, 
and they suddenly stopped on the very edge of a 
great bluff which overlooked the beautiful Skada 
Fiord. 

“Oh, how beautiful !” exclaimed Mamie, as they 
looked out over the wide expanse of the tranquil 
fiord. 

“Oh, yonder is your yacht down yonder, 
brother,” exclaimed Lilian in glee. 

“Yes, and isn’t this charming?” said Leland, 
taking off his sailor cap and smoothing back his 
forehead to admit the delicious incoming breeze 
sweeping in from the sea. “There is such a 
peculiar sensation in the many romantic features 
of this beautiful Northland.” 

All walked around the bluff a short distance to 
obtain a better view, — all except Edward and Lil- 
ian, who chose to sit dovm and remain where they 
were. The calm, sedative virtues of nature en- 
twined about them with that wonderful environ- 
ment of love and beauty, and they, though scarce- 
ly aware of its effect, felt that there was nothing 
more than love needed to make them happier. 
Edward, fully satisfied to be in Lilian’s presence. 


CAIN. 


409 


was silent, looking away in the distance, while a 
faint smile lingered about his eyes and lips. She 
had given him a little rose, and he took his eyes 
from the distance and looked at the delicate 
flower, he compared it with the giver. He looked 
at the pure, transparent petals, and smiled as he 
saw their unmarred beauty; — smiled? — yes, for 
he thought of another rose — Lilian’s pure heart — 
whose petals were as pure and unmarred as those 
he held so fondly in his hand. She had been 
away from society a long time, in fact, she had 
never known anything about society, and he won- 
dered if on her return to America and her en- 
trance into the fashionable world she would drift 
into the slums of frivolity and disgusting dissi- 
pations into which so many before her had fallen. 
l\Iany a beautiful, innocent, pure flower had been 
broken down by a cruel hand and left for a world 
to trample under foot, and who knew but that this 
one would meet the same fate? He bit his lip at 
the thought, and would fain have asked God to 
forbid such calamity but for the thought that he 
had never acknowledged Jesus as his Saviour. 
The girl at his side was a mere innocent child, 
w^hose sweet but peculiar nature had been won- 
derfully touched with that singularly fascinating 
power with which many a Norwegian or Danish 
maiden has been distinguished. The wild, gleam- 
ing, sunshiny land of Iceland had endowed her 
with a new and romantic nature which added new 
charms to her winning person. All this was 
pleasing in the highest conception of the term to 
Edward ; but he was skeptical ; he was afraid the 
pretty little blossom would lose its sweetness in 


410 


CAIN. 


the bitterness of a poisonous society. He looked 
up and saw her beautiful, innocent eyes fixed 
upon him ; and she blushed, for she was not 
thinking that she would be caught looking at him 
so fondly. But the fond eyes had lingered too 
long. Edward smiled, and leaning near her, took 
her little hand in his and whispered softly to her : 

‘^Will you tell me what makes you smile so 
sweetly to-day?^’ 

^‘Why should 3'ou want to know she answered 
timidly. 

‘^Because you were looking at me, and you 
surely must have been thinking of me.” 

“I was thinking of you.” 

“What were you thinking of me?” 

“I was thinking of your statement that love was 
that virtue of life that made you happier than 
anything else.” 

“And is that all I said that time?” 

She looked at him and smiled, and Edward 
saw in her clear e^^es the look of deepest passion. 
Now no one but Edward could have seen that 
love-expression. 

“You know w^hat you said last to me there,” 
she said. 

“Yes,” he replied gallantly, “and I can say as 
much to-day.” 

“Ah, you are a brave man, Mr. Linden, but 
you are too much of a coward to say that now,” 
she said mockingly with the same smile. She 
looked at him with the eye of a critic and noticed 
with supreme satisfaction that he blushed exceed- 
ingly. He tried to speak, but somehow he was 
really a coward. He looked at her and all he 


CAIN. 


' 411 

could do was to grin, and his blushing face col- 
ored deeply. She laughed heartily at him, and 
tossed a pebble into the water below. 

“I am waiting,’^ she said at length, soberly. 

^^How long could you wait?’^ he asked, some- 
what regained. 

‘‘Oh, I suppose that I could wait a long time if 
I was sure that your answer would be the same 
then as it is wont to be now.” 

“I am sure my answer will always be the same.” 

“Oh, how dignified you look. It is astonishing 
to see you so brave. I believe you will finally 
sum up courage enough to say it very soon. You 
are plucky.” 

Just then the others of the party returned. 
Paix was telling some of his funny stories, and 
the others were laughing. 

“Have you two fallen in love with the siren 
voices of the sea ?” said Leland as they ap- 
proached. 

“We have fallen in love with everything that is 
beautiful here,” said Edward as they rose. 

“We must be off for the ‘Lorelei,’ ” suggested 
Maldemar, and soon they were on their return. 
It was not long till they were on the bosom of the 
deep, sailing back toward the Oerajalf. The old 
Dane was in high spirits, and their return trip 
was spent very pleasantly as he entertained them 
with his quaint old legendary stories. 

When Amphion and his little company had ar- 
ranged to depart, Mamie lingered, and as Leland 
clasped her hand in his, she seemed to let it re- 
main there tenderly. He glanced at her and saw 


412 CAIN. 

something in her face that he had never seen 
there before. 

‘^Good-by, Mamie ” 

^^Oh, no, no, no \” she said, lifting her little 
hand imploringly. “Do not say that please. It 
sounds so much like parting forever.^^ 

He looked at her sad face. Tears filled his 
eyes. But she could say nothing. He smiled and 
turned away. 

Only a few minutes later, Mamie looked back 
to see the beautiful “Lorelei’’ disappear behind the 
bend in the cliff just as they left the Oerajalf 
and entered the waters of the Fjorheim. She 
sighed deeply and the old man caught the pathos 
of her aching heart from the weary expression of 
her manner. 

“Thou art sad, my daughter,” he said as he 
ceased rowing. “Pray tell me what troubles 
thee?” 

“Nothing serious, father; I was thinking of 
the past.” 

But this did not satisfy the good Dane, for too 
often he had heard these sighs in his earlier days, 
and had learned that there was more than a mere 
sad memory expressed therein. He drew her 
close to his bosom and wept passionately. 

“0 my child! My precious child! Thou art 
the perfect image of thy mother. Oh, many a 
day have I seen my precious, sweet Naomi, with 
that same weary expression on her face that I saw 
on thy face just then ! Many happy days have 
we spent in our little shallop rowing over this 
beautiful fiord, while the glory of the heavens 
enveloped land and sea in its perfect beauty. I 


CAIN. 


413 


sometimes think that I was cruel to her, for she 
did so long to go back to America, to the land of 
flowers, where the bouquets of love, peace and 
happiness bloom perpetually in the hearts of her 
Christian people. But the gods claimed me here 
to wait till they should call me to that mysterious 
battle-fleld where all the great war-kings and 
those that have fallen in battle shall be assembled. 
If I should have gone away wilfully, their wrath 
would have been incurred against me, and when 
death came upon me I should have been hurled 
into Miffleheim, the world of eternal darkness. I 
am a war-king and a hero, and to have gone away 
would have been to forfeit my honor and disgrace 
my royal ancestors. I could not go with her. Oh, 
how my heart bled for her. But I could not re- 
lieve her heart of its sadness.” 

“But, father, your religion teaches that the 
gods are as pleased with you when you disregard 
all their obligations as when you are perfectly 
obedient. Why, then, did you choose to obey 
them ?” 

“I could not afford to disgrace my progenitors, 
and besides, there is still another more supreme 
god, Alfadur, who shall have a new world to rise 
out of the seas after that great event called Rag- 
narok, the Twilight of the Gods, and he is all- 
powerful and omniscient, whose divinity is su- 
preme above all things. His new world shall be 
blessed with his wonderful peace, and I trust that 
I may be promised an eternal inheritance in his 
kingdom after I have flnished with the heroes in 
the court of Odin in Valhalla. Haven’t you read 
from the Eddas where it say : 


414 


CAIN 


'"She sees arise 
The second time 
From the sea, the earth 
Completely green; 

Cascades do fall. 

The eagle soars 
From lofty mounts. 

Pursues its prey; 

All ills cease, 

Baldur comes. 

The heavenly gods 
Together dwell 
In Odin's halls.' " 

Mamie looked at him tenderly, and said slowly 
and earnestly: ^‘Father, I will read you a beau- 
tiful story some time, a story about that new 
world. My Grod has heaven for His home, and all 
His saints shall go there to live with Him for- 
ever. You will not find it in the Eddas, but in 
the Holy Bible.’’ 

The old Dane took his beautiful daughter in his 
arms again and clasped her to his bosom, crying 
as passionately as a little child. His tears fell 
like baptismal showers upon her brown tresses. 

“0 sweet memory of a happy past! Mamie, 
Naomi, your precious mother, has often told me 
that wonderful story. Child, you are as devoted 
to your religion as she was. When I look at you 
I sometimes forget myself and think that I am 
looking into the beautiful face of your mother.” 

‘W^hen did mother die?” 

“Ah, child, it was in tlie earlier part of our 


c :a; I N 


415 


married life.” His voice was faltering and his 
lips trembled. ‘"‘But she has gone to a happy home 
which her God and your God hath prepared for 
her; and if there be any blissful eternity, I am 
sure I shall join her there.” 

Lilian was silently listening to the strange lan- 
guage of the old Dane. She thought of her own 
mother. In a short while she would see that 
mother and clasp her arms about that motherly 
neck and kiss her as she oft had done in child- 
hood days. 

When Mamie had once reached her room, she 
sank wearily into a chair and burst into tears. 
For an hour she wept bitterly. Then drying her 
tears, she knelt by her chair and appealed to God 
to hear her humble petitions. Then she sought 
communication with the sainted spirit of her 
mother. 

^^0 mamma, while thou lookest down upon thy 
child, oh do not judge me harshly, for, 0 mamma, 
thou hast known what it is to love. 0 mamma, I 
love Leland with all my soul. I pray thee, do 
not think your poor child wicked or callous for it. 
Though his hands are stained with the blood of 
those whom he has murdered, his soul has been 
redeemed and washed white as snow. And though 
I can never unite my life with him, may I at 
least be permitted to love him? 

^'0 Holy Spirit, strengthen me, teach me and 
guide me, lest I err.” 


416 


CAIN. 


CHAPTEK XXX. 

The sky was beautiful, the sun brilliant, and 
a gentle breeze swept over the little island. Love 
was adrift on every gentle zephyr and a song of 
beauty was its story. 

Mamie was alone, sitting on a great bearskin 
rug, which she had spread out on the ground in 
a cluster of vines under the arbor, and she was 
fondling endearingly a beautiful albatross. She 
began to sing in the Icelandic language an old 
love-song which she had heard long ago from the 
lips of her mother. The melody rippled in rap- 
ture down the silent arbor-aisle, and every leaf 
and tendril fluttered in the breezes as if laugh- 
ing with delight at the rapturous strains as they 
floated down the aisle. She looked and listened, 
but neither seeing nor hearing anything, she re- 
sumed her song. The albatross ate heartily of the 
crumbs which she held out to him in her hands. 
When the song was finished and the bird had dis- 
posed of all its food, she took up her book and 
began to read. For some minutes she perused 
unmolested the story she was reading; then like 
the thrill of a magic touch the touch of Leland’s 
hand upon her arm thrilled in her veins and she 
shuddered convulsively as he spoke : 


CAIN. 


417 


'Ah, child, you always delight to be alone !” he 
said tenderly, as he lifted her hand and bowed 
over it. A flash of sudden indignation rushed to 
her face as she recalled the horrible memory of his 
murderous life, and she sprang to her feet and 
snatched her hand from his. 

'Ah, your touch is profanation she exclaimed 
with indignation. "See, they are stained with the 
blood of an innocent girl V’ 

He gazed at her proud, indignant face, and his 
face grew pale with a hopeless look of despair. 
For the first time since his sins had been par- 
doned, that habitual scowl darkened in his brow, 
and a gleam of bitterness and desolation and mis- 
ery shone in his feverish eyes. He gazed fixedly 
at her. There was an intense silence, during which 
nothing but the ticking of his watch could be 
heard. Then raising her little hand proudly, she 
bowed haughtily and turned abruptly away from 
him. 

By this time her proud nature began to feel the 
wound of her deliberate offensiveness, and with a 
sense of perfect contempt he watched her ascend 
the granite steps into the house. He turned wear- 
ily away and left "Palace Garden.” 

What had come over her? He was astonished 
and sorely perplexed over her rude manner to- 
ward him. He went on his way down to the shore, 
pushed his boat out into the water, but looked 
back and saw her coming hurriedly down the lit- 
tle path. But he did not wait for her, and in 
spite of her pathetic calling for him, he rowed in- 
differently on across the Fjorheim. 

"She shall atone for her rudeness to me,” he 


CAIN. 


418 

said bitterly to himself, I’ll eat every image 
and idol in the Hindoo Pantheon.” 

There was a gentle breeze coming in from the 
tepid waters of the Gulf Stream, fanning the 
waves gently, while a perfect tranquillity brooded 
over land and sea. The stillness made the calm 
more intense; and to one who is not acquainted 
with the peculiarities of Icelandic climate and the 
long days of perpetual sunshine which gives it the 
imiversal name of something like the Land of 
Nightless Hours, there is something enchanting 
about it. The observer delights to see her hills and 
ever-green-clad mountains as they swim in purple 
seas gilded with golden hues pouring from the 
burning beaker of the midnight sun. To him who 
wanders over her valleys and hills and along the 
clear brooks, there is something charming in the 
musical ripple of these brooks as they wander 
over their meandering beds and leap the craggy 
boulders. On looking out over the deep, narrow, 
confined fiords of Iceland, one would think that 
a prodigy had occurred and that a prodigious 
quantity of the fabulous Golden Fleece had show- 
ered its golden locks over the calm ocean. Such 
are the feelings produced on the mind at night. 

The Oerajalf was glistening brilliantly on this 
particular night, and there was only one person 
on the ‘^^Lorelei” who was watching and observing 
its glory. Leland was strolling about on deck 
with a leisurely gait, delighting himself with the 
pleasant indulgence in drinking in the beauties 
which painted the Oerajalf with her dazzling col- 
ors. He could not sleep because of weariness of 
mind. He was troubled, his heart ached; he was 


CAIN. 


419 


sinking every day into deeper hopelessness. He 
sought ease and rest by strolling about on deck, 
where only the voiceless vigils of night could 
watch him; and for a fleeting moment he forgot 
his morbidness as he looked out upon the mag- 
nificent spectrum before him, as it glowed upon 
the beautiful arena. The quiet was enchanting; 
the brooding of peace was beautiful to behold. 
One would think that the royal supremacy of that 
mighty Poseidon pervaded in full dominion over 
the deep flord. This Poseidon’s gentler spirit 
rested with calmness and quelling power over the 
sea. 

Leland was leaning carelessly over the guards, 
pitching into the water pieces of the cocoa sher- 
bets which he had been eating, when something 
grating against the side of the vessel attracted his 
attention. He leaned further out, and discovered 
it to be a small keel knocking against the side of 
the vessel, and its only occupant was the flgure 
of a man nodding drowsily over his oars. Leland 
called out lowly but distinctly to him : 

‘^What is your purpose here!” Whereupon the 
man looked up quickly. 

came for you 1 Hick ah valla van dika 1” 
he seemed to come to himself as he spoke. “Come 
quick !” 

“Come where?” inquired Leland in a tone of 
apprehension, as he leaned down anxiously to hear 
the answer. 

“Oh, sir, Mr. Burnett, come with me across the 
Oerajalf, for a stranger is dying there in Palace 
Garden, and he is just raving to see some one 
he calls Abel^ the orphan boy Leland. By the 


420 


CAIN. 


gods! he is raging, distracted! He leaps and 
bounds like a maniac. He is constantly calling 
out unknown words such as hnfidels, hadtis, 
Dives/ and dielF; then he wails out pitifully, 
‘Poor Leland, my once happy friend.^ Oh, sir, 
come quick cried the woolly-headed boy whom 
Leland recognized as the doorkeeper of Palace 
Garden. His distorted features winced with con- 
vulsive excitement, and his whole frame was a 
bundle of antic actions while he spoke in con- 
fused accents. 

“Why should I go there?” inquired Leland 
curiously. 

“To appease his raging spirit. The Dane sent 
for you.” 

“What is the stranger’s name?” 

“He would not tell, only he wished to be called 
Cain,” he answered impatiently. “Hurry, he is 
dying !” 

Leland was astonished, bewildered. What could 
be the meaning of such proceedings? The men- 
tion of the name Cain touched his memory with 
the time when his murderous hands changed him 
from the happy boy Leland to the bloody mur- 
derer Cain. He thought of one whose youthful 
face used to shine with the luster of a happy 
heart. That face had been the greatest idol of 
his boyhood affections. But now ! 0 torturing 

memory of a quickly-blighted life ! of a youth’s 
fair morning beclouded with eclipsed dreams of a 
glorious future! The curse of skepticism had de- 
stroyed the tender bloom of their youth. He had 
been redeemed, but this poor wandering Cain, 
oh, where would his eternity be ! 


CAIN. 


421 


In a short time they were speedily skipping 
over the waters of the Oerajalf toward Palace 
Garden. The silence was intense. The landscape 
swam in opal seas flecked with tints of golden 
sunlight. 

With skill and rapidity the lad propelled the 
craft across the flord, and at length they landed 
at the island. 

They soon entered the house and passed down 
the silent, sumptuous corridor till suddenly the 
lad stopped near a small closet door and here lis- 
tened. All was quiet, except now and then a low 
wailing cry came in suppressed tones to their ears. 
In spite of his strong fearlessness, Iceland shud- 
dered at the sound of that lamenting voice. Judas 
shook his tousled head in that way peculiar to 
himself, and there was an expression of horror on 
his face. He opened the little door and stooped 
and passed in, bidding Leland follow him, and 
when the door closed they were in intense dark- 
ness. Judas lit a lamp, which gave but a dismal 
light, and they proceeded. Down a narrow de- 
scent of steps between two dark, dingy walls of 
stone. It was like descending into the depths of 
some endless hollowness of the dismal haunts. 
The deeper they descended the darker did the 
night grow, and the more death-like and dreary 
grew their muffled tread. They passed chambers 
and dark vaults, then began another descent 
which terminated in their destination, a dismal 
chamber, sufficiently lighted. 

On a low couch lay a sick man, apparently 
asleep. The only watcher was the old Dane, who 
sat close to the bedside of the man, holding the 


422 


CAIN. 


latter^s hands in his strong grasp. Amphion 
bowed to Leland. Judas motioned Leland to the 
bedside and pointed with a whisper: 

^That is he, — knowest thou that face?” 

Leland bit his lip, and for the first time in 
many years he wept for his dying friend and 
enemy, Alton Tolliver. Ah, yes, it was Alton, 
come at last to his last hour. Soon a dreadful 
eternity would claim his soul. 

By some means Tolliver had wandered over the 
world, a hopeless mundivagrant, seeking ease for 
his dreary soul, but everywhere he went he became 
more savage. At last, tired of the world, he had 
wandered away to Iceland; perhaps to partake 
of the balm which came from the icy breezes of 
her frozen coasts and lands. He had roamed like 
a wild savage through the valleys and over the 
hills till at last he ventured to enter the vine- 
clad stone door of Palace Garden, when he was 
caught by the old Dane and put into the dark 
secret cell, to await further punishment. 

Leland stood by for some minutes, looking at 
the distorted features of him who was once the 
dearest friend he had on earth. While he looked, 
a sting of conscious regret pierced his very soul 
as he thought of the awful tragedy on the little 
bridge at ^^Gethsemane,” where he had looked 
with fiaming eyes upon the dying man, who had 
fallen from the blow of the pistol ball in his side. 
While he stood looking at him with tearful eyes 
the dying man opened his wild, frenzied eyes and 
looked savagely at Leland. 

Just then Mamie and Lilian entered the little 
cell. At the sight of Alton’s familiar face Mamie 


CAIN. 


423 


recoiled with horror, screamed with the terrible 
fright, and clung to her father like a frightened 
chffd. 

^^Come on, dear child of my heart,” pleaded the 
poor dying wretch, extending his weak hands to- 
ward her. ‘^Come, put your little hand in mine, 
for I have longed, ah, these many years, to feel 
its comforting clasp. WonH you come this once?” 

^^Now but a moment, and I am gone, gone, gone 
forever. Mamie, 0 Mamie, the only surviving idol 
of my perishing soul, bend your beautiful face 
near mine and press one sweet farewell kiss upon 
my parched lips. Oh, won’t you? I am dying!” 
She looked at him with tears in her eyes, but 
shook her head. 

^^Oh, just one kiss upon my hand, then ?” 

‘^No,” she said firmly, ‘‘I will never kiss the 
hand that is stained with the blood of innocent 
people.” 

She looked straight at Leland, whose eyes in- 
stantly met hers. Leland’s face grew white; his 
heart almost forgot to beat; and a tremor touched 
his lips as if an agony of greatest pain were tor- 
turing his very soul. 

'Tarewell to all the world. The world is leav- 
ing me ! Oh, how can I be dying ! I will not 
die ! I will not 1” 

He made one more effort to struggle from his 
couch, but his weakness was too great; he fell 
back ; his lips curled ; his eyes rolled back in their 
death-like cavities; his whole body shook with one 
convulsion; and he w’as Alton Tolliver no more! 
There was a great, echoless silence. The living 
stood looking down into the face of the dead. 


424 


CAIN. 


Death’s gloomy shadows hovered dismally over 
the little dark, dingy cavern. 

At length the old Dane motioned for their de- 
parture, whispering as they went: ^^Tell Judas 
his spirit has departed, and send him to me at 
once.” 

They departed, and after a long and wearisome 
ascent they reached the corridor. Lilian hurried 
away to find Judas, and Leland doffed his cap to 
Mamie and departed. But he did not smile as 
she had so often seen him smile when he bade 
her good-by. His eyes were angry; his lips were 
tightly compressed ; and on his brow was that 
habitual scowl that had been there so often when 
he was at “Gethsemane.” 

As he descended the long arbor she looked wist- 
fully after him and wept bitterly. She had loved 
Leland Burnett every dreaming moment and 
every waking hour since she had first known him, 
and how much better it seemed to her had they 
both died in their innocent youth. But instead, 
the bitterness of life had tainted his youthful 
purity and had made her life unhappy indeed. 

When he disappeared among the vines at the 
stone door, she turned away sad-hearted and went 
to her mysterious chamber. 

Alas ! Poor Alton ! His life had ended at 
last. His restless, savage spirit had gone out into 
that strange, untried Eternity. Ah, such a life 
as his had been ! She remembered him when she 
hoped that the halo of happy youth encircled 
about his boyhood days. Yet she remembered 
that she had always distrusted him, and now she 
had seen the prophecy of her suspicions fulfilled. 


CAIN. 


425 


Aside from her aversion, incurred by his cruelty 
toward her, she entertained a very tender feeling 
for him for the sake of earlier associations. He 
had ceased long ago to be her friend. Some time 
in the far past God had seen fit to take her pre- 
cious mother from her; and now poor Leland, the 
one whom she loved so dearly, had at last grown 
weary and had turned away from her with feel- 
ings of keenest resentment. Oh, how utterly 
friendless and rejected and despised and scorned 
she felt. There she was in a secluded home, far 
away from her beloved land, in a foreign land 
where the faces of loved ones she never met. 
The only happiness she could entertain w^as that 
her dear father would be with her. Even Lilian, 
whom she had learned to love so dearly, would 
soon depart with Leland to join her anxious par- 
ents in America. Only a few more weeks, and all 
the beautiful land of Iceland would be enveloped 
in the long, long darkness of Arctic night; the 
dreary hills and mountains and valleys would be 
buried in snow and ice; and the gloom of super- 
stition would pervade the haunted darkness of 
night on the Oerajalf. Almost driven to frenzy 
by these torturing thoughts she threw herself 
across her little bed and gave herself up to pas- 
sionate weeping. 


426 


CAIN. 


CHAPTER XXXI. 

Before the long shadow of night began to 
hover over the land, the beautiful ‘‘Lorelei” was 
in mid-ocean. 

Their voyage was calm and undisturbed, and 
they landed at last on the American shore. Tak- 
ing the train, they were soon flying for the Capi- 
tal. Lilian gazed with rapture in her soul and 
joy sparkling in her beautiful eyes at the familiar 
land of her birth. The sunshine was like it used 
to be in days gone by; the flowery meadows and 
ripening grain were what she had delighted to see 
in her childhood; and she was glad to get back 
into a land where the voices of familiar friends 
and American citizens greeted her ears, and where 
the gloom of Arctic superstition did not prevail. 
She had been deprived of all these pleasures for 
the last two years, and on her sudden return they 
filled her with unspeakable joy. 

At length they arrived in Washington. It was 
late in the afternoon, and the evening had begun 
to creep over the city, with all its autumnal 
beauty in grand display. While Lilian was ex- 
ultant with excessive joyful anticipation of so 
soon seeing her father and mother, scarcely less 
was the rapturous delight which Leland felt over 
the wonderful success that he had had in such 


CAIN. 


427 


joyful triumph. He knew that his successful ef- 
forts in bringing back his lost sister to his broken- 
hearted mother would confer upon her the great- 
est happiness that he could ever bring her. As 
they turned into the street that led to Mr. Bil- 
lion’s mansion, Leland drew the child close to 
his side and kissed her, — ah, so tenderly! 

^^hy are you crying, brother?” she asked curi- 
ously, as she observed the tears that had gathered 
in his eyes. 

^‘You should ask the angels why they never 
weep. You know, Lilian, they rejoice without 
weeping when the lost lamb is found ; but we weep 
and rejoice with tears when the lost is found.” 

Just then the carriage stopped at the street 
gate and they stepped out. As the carriage went 
away, they walked on silently up the flower-lined 
walk-way to the magnificent building. To her 
surprise Lilian saw Donnie grazing in the corner 
of the yard and called to him cheerfully that he 
would come to her quickly. He lifted his head 
quickly; his ears pointed, and he looked dubi- 
ously at her for a moment. She started toward 
him, continuing her cheerful calling and holding 
out her hands toward him. He drew nearer, then 
retreated, pranced gaily about, then advanced 
again less shyly, but even this time he was not 
entirely confident of her identity and trotted off 
sideways, looking askance, till at last she suc- 
ceeded in decoying him up to her. She patted 
him on the head, uttering words of endearment 
which he had heard from her lips many times be- 
fore. This completely won him, and he played 
about her gleefully as one who suddenly recog- 


428 


CAIN. 


nized a dear friend. He followed her up to the 
doorstep, seemingly pleading for the privilege of 
entering with her. 

Leland entered with her and rang the door- 
bell, which was immediately answered by the pale- 
faced, meek Euth, who opened the door and looked 
blankly at them. Lilian advanced and smiled.. 

^mo is it, Euthr’ 

^^Why, Lordy mercy, child ! when did you come 
from the Golden Gate, de New Jerusalem? Well, 
well, I do declare; it is Lilian. Come in, let me 
kiss your hand at least?” 

Without the least diffidence Lilian clasped hei 
in her arms and kissed her tenderly. 

“Where is mamma?” 

'Alone in the drawing-room,” answered the 
maiden, her face all beaming with the light of an 
overjoyed heart. Lilian hurried on to the draw- 
ing-room and met her mother, who had heard the 
last question, and had risen with a feeling of sud- 
den anxiety to ascertain who the questioner was. 
She glided like a tender yielding child into her 
mother’s arms. 

“At last, 0 mamma ! Sweet mother ! God has 
let me come back to you !” The mother could 
speak no word, for her heart was overjoyed. She 
even failed to notice her son and his friend when 
they entered. 

It was a happy evening at the Dillion mansion. 
The description of such felicity is beyond the 
weak inadequacy of human scrawl to tell. When 
the skill of the pen can accomplish the task of 
depicting the blissfulness of such a reuniting, the 
zenith of mental power will have been reached. 


CAIN. 


429 


A calm night brooded over the great city, and 
only the monotonous tone of the din and roar of 
the great machine houses and manufactories dis- 
turbed the calm night. A happy mother slept 
that night the sweetest dreaming slumbers that 
had invoked her weary heart in many months. A 
happy daughter slept again in the little bed in 
which she had slept in innocent childhood days. 
And the happy brother and son was found upon 
his knees, pouring out the grateful adorations of 
his heart to Almighty God, whose divine aid had 
helped him to success. The load had been lifted 
from his burdened heart. The slave had won his 
freedom, and lo ! he was a king again ! 




} 

# 


430 


CAIN. 


CHAPTER XXXII. 

Lilian was now seventeen years of age, and 
each hour and day of life touched her face and 
form with more excellent grace and beauty and 
symmetry. When she smiled there was sunshine 
all about; when she spoke or laughed there was a 
melody too sweet to be termed an earthly voice; 
and when her eyes looked up into the clear heavens 
— or into your eyes — her pure soul was there also, 
and a love deeper than ordinary human passion 
had its fountain there. Many of her childhood 
fancies she yet retained, which rendered her love- 
liness more charming. Having come from a 
strange land in which she had lived so long, her 
many friends were strangely curious to see her, 
and in her presence they gazed with wondering 
eyes at her marvelous beauty. They entertained a 
kind of reverence for her. Young men, to do her 
honor, sent miniature bouquets to her, with cards 
on which were the words, ‘‘To the beautiful 
maiden of Iceland.’’ 

With well-bred calmness and perfect amuse- 
ment, Lilian observed the manifestations of jeal- 
ousy among the society girls, who envied her 
beauty and accomplishments. Lilian knew that 
she was beautiful, but she regarded that quality 


CAIN. 


431 


of her person with but little thought, conceding 
that it was nothing more than ordinary. She 
had not thought, when looking at the coarse, 
common features of those uncomely people whom 
we term ugly, to compare them to her own ex- 
cellency of graces. In such matters she forgot 
herself entirely. She remembered the fact only 
when her mother would kiss her and make the re- 
mark, ‘^My precious child, when will you cease to 
grow beautiful?” Often she was reminded of it 
when Ruth would arrange her beautiful hair, for 
she almost invariably would assert excitedly, 
^^Lord bless me, if you ain’t the very imps of the 
angels! Such pretty eyes, such bewitching eyes, 
and such a kissing mouth! Oh, you are beauti- 
ful !” 

All these praises, besides many others, were lav- 
ished upon her; and yet they did not cause the 
least disturbance in her gentle, reserved dispo- 
sition. She went on, day after day, dreaming 
the sweet dreams of girlhood, with only one little 
passion restless in her heart now and then. 

It was a sweet passion that had touched her 
heart that memorable night when she stood at the 
threshold of Palace Garden, awaking something 
there that she could not understand. That little 
passion had never gone to sleep again. It was 
awake, but had never stirred. Often when the 
memory flitted across her mind she would in- 
voluntarily press her fingers to her eyes and her 
hand would wander to her heart as it did that 
day. Many times when this strange sensation 
stirred in her heart, she would wander out in 
the yard among the flowers to dream and smile 


432 


CAIN. 


and reflect where no one would detect the little 
innocent secrets in her face. 

On one of these occasions, when such thoughts 
had awakened the sensations beyond the usual 
limit, she had stolen out among the flowers, where 
she found Donnie, who came to her as if giving 
her a cordial welcome. She sat down on the rich 
grass and began to makt a wreath of flowers 
around Donnie’s neck. 

It was one of those beautiful, tranquil after- 
noons in August, when the last glorious display 
of sunlight beauty arrays itself in all the grandeur 
that autumn can impart. She was humming a 
melody to herself, and on her face was a pleasant 
smile. Something like a quick movement caused 
Donnie to look up quickly; and before she knew 
it, Mr. Linden was in her presence. 

‘^Miss Dillion, may I care to hope that my 
presence is at least agreeable to you ?” 

Lilian laughed. ^^Mr. Linden, you always have 
that classic, formal explanation or excuse to offer. 
I wish you would always concede that I am al- 
ways perfectly delighted to have 5^ou with me.” 
There was a charming frankness about her words, 
and there was a lovely smile on her face. 

“Oh, that is generous !” laughed Edward. 
“Now, how much I feel at home.” 

Edward lay down on the grass at Lilian’s feet 
and rested his head on his hand. 

“Miss Dillion, may I call you Lilian?” 

“That is what you should have called me all 
the time. Yes, I would rather be addressed sim- 
ply that way.” 

“That is what my heart says every time I speak 


CAIN. 


433 


to you the other way. Now I can speak my sen- 
timents freely, ^Lilian.^ That is the sweetest name 
I have ever heard.^^ 

Her eyelids drooped; the color tinted her fair 
cheeks; there was a smile on her lips. 

‘H have come here, dear Lilian, to tell you a 
little story — one that is as old as the human 
race, yet one as new as the first sunbeams that 
peep over the eastern hills. But first you must 
tell me something : do you remember the time and 
place of our first meeting?’^ 

She looked up diffidently, answering in that 
low, sweet tone that he had heard on the Fjor- 
heim : 

^‘Does the little bird ever forget to sing?” 

‘^No, but why that question?” 

“Then my heart never forgets to cherish the 
fond memory of that golden midnight when I 
first met you.” 

He laughed with satisfaction. 

“No, the little birds never forget to chant their 
daily melodies, — and do you remember the little 
photo of my likeness which I gave to you soon 
after that?” 

She answered by drawing her little gold watch 
from her belt. Its lid flew open, and she held 
it up so he could see his own likeness, neatly 
fitted in on the lid. While he looked with a 
smile of satisfaction, he drew his own watch from 
his pocket, opened it to turn it to her. With a 
deep blush she read the skilfuly carved letters 
of her own name,“LILIAN,” shining in its con- 
cave surface. 

“That, dear Lilian, is all that I have to gratify 


434 


CAIN. 


my longing eyes when I am away from yon. There 
is your name.” He pointed to the engraving. 
^‘But here in my heart is your fair image. 0 
Lilian, I have worshipped that image every hour 
of my life since I first knew you. It is the 
greatest source of all my happiness. I have cher- 
ished the hope of retaining it forever, but some- 
how I fear that the fair image may vanish and 
leave me in bitterness. 0 Lilian, since I have 
met you, I have felt noble aspirations which never 
came to me before. What is that which causes 
me to go down on my knees before Almighty God 
and give to Him my life, my all, to be conse- 
crated to His service? It is the purity of the inno- 
cency of your spotless soul. What is it that has 
wrought such a change in my cynical nature? It 
is that fountain of love which has welled up in 
my heart — Love? Yes, love for you!” 

A joyous mocking-bird sang his wonderful song 
as he swung to and fro on a slender twig sw’ayed 
by the gentle breezes of evening. Donnie grazed 
at a distance, and there was a strange stillness 
just at this pause of the conversation. Edward 
and Lilian gazed at each other as if there was a 
resistless charm holding their gaze upon each 
other. So straight and prolonged was their gaze, 
and so intense became the stillness that they could 
hear the passionate beating of their hearts. At 
length they smiled as if they had just finished 
reading the virtues of each other’s souls. The 
bridge of love was completed; and, forever, over 
it wmuld freely pass their love, their sympathies, 
their sorrows and their happiness, binding into an 


CAIN. 


435 


everlasing unity their nobler passions for eacJi 
other and for God. 

“Dear Lilian, may I hope to sustain my frail 
heart with the affection which I entertain for you, 
or do you spurn me because I should not approach 
you on the subject?” 

Her only answer was the voiceless language 
of a tear which stole pathetically over her fair 
cheeks as she looked at him with a strange but 
certain yearning in her pleading eyes. She could 
not say. She was young and inexperienced, and 
she felt that she Irad suddenly come upon a 
strange vista whose untried but entrancing ave- 
nue led into the sacred realm of a holy sanctuary, 
and she was afraid to enter. 

“Your mother approves the course I have pur- 
sued in the manifestations of my affection for 
you; I have told her before I dared to approach 
you on this tender and sacred subject. If you are 
afraid to trust me 

“You conjecture wrong, I do not distrust you.” 

“Then if you will not speak the word my heart 
longs to hear as an answer, you will please ex- 
press it in another way. If you love me, Lilian, 
place your little hand in mine.” 

He waited impatiently. The moments seemed 
so tardy. Then at last, as if some inspiring 
touch of some heavenly hand had thrilled his 
veins, her little hand moved like- the gentle sweep 
of an angel’s wing, and was laid gently and con- 
fidingly in his. Then his firm, manly hand 
grasped it tenderly, and he looked at her joyous, 
rapturous face, studying the physiognomy of its 
certain expression of rapture. The silence was 9I- 


436 


CAIN. 


most too sweet for human expression. A view 
of that veiled beauty of a lover’s Eden was of- 
fered, and they saw and felt the holiness of that 
love as they never had before. Again her little 
hand went to her heart, remaining there as if its 
touch allayed the painful yet sweet agitation 
w'hich throbbed with every pulsation of her heart. 
Her lips moved, but no words passed them. Her 
eyes smiled, but no beam of their shining beauty 
did she cast upon Edward. She simply drooped 
her eyes charmingly, as millions have done before. 

^^Enough, dear Lilian; go to your mother and 
tell her that you love me, and that some day you 
wdll be mine.” 

She promised to do so, and kept her promise. 

:(c 4: « He He iN 

Mysteries in life are of a necessity. Not very 
seldom do we meet with the most intricate prob- 
lems in human destiny, natural physiognomy and 
mysteries of life. Frequent intercourse with the 
crow^ded throngs of humanity affords many illus- 
trations of the mysterious philosophy of human 
destiny and human existenec. 

But the mystery of mysteries is the passionate 
qualities of the soul, — the inner-man. When per- 
fect satisfaction blesses the human mind and 
heart, the virtues of such happiness are ineffable, 
— ^they are a mystery ! When absolute discontent 
seizes the heart, there is a desolation there beyond 
the power of language to express it. 

This terrible, gnawing discontent had again 
come over Leland Burnett. One bright day in 
June he walked through the yard of his grand. 
“Getbsem^e” home to the picturesque cliff just 


CAIN. 


437 


outside the Areola gate. A delicious scent of 
sweet flowers floated on the meandering breezes. 
Now and then a bird-melody wafted itself down 
through the forest aisles and mingled its strains 
of love with the murmur and gurgle of the clear 
rippling brooks that tumbled ecstatically and as 
if laughing over the rocks and ran down through 
its marrow bed. 

Leland was all alone. The family that was 
living with him — Mr. and Mrs. Herman — were 
gon^ off to gather wild flowers. When Leland had 
reached the brook that found its way out along 
the shadow of the bluff, he heard a sweet voice 
singing in the distance. The melody had some- 
thing of pathos in it. He stopped to listen to 
its enchanting strains. It was as if the very sun- 
beams were vibrating with the music touched by 
the magic power of some hidden Orpheus. After 
several stanzas, the melody wafted off into a sweet 
refrain as if an angel had suggested the prelude, 
then a low, soothing cadence concluded the song; 
and even the echo suddenly hushed. Leland sighed 
deeply and turned himself about as if he had sud- 
denly waked from a reverie. 

Leland shook his head and smiled bitterly. 
Long ago his heart was wont to cherish the sweet 
sentiment of that song when its thrilling melody, 
yet sad refrain, fell upon his distorted soul, when 
its resistless chanting was the voice of the beau- 
tiful Icelandic maiden, Mamie Homean Malde- 
mar. As he walked down the road toward the 
little brown bridge, he thought of the woman he 
loved so well. How hard was his lot to bear. 
Why had God, Who was so merciful, denied him 


438 


CAIN. 


the boon his longing heart had so long craved? 
How nnjust it seemed to be deprived of the only 
real happiness this life can afford. As he walked 
away, a terrible moroseness seized him, and his 
Christian heart turned radically to a savageness 
and profound bitterness. A sullen, austere spirit 
supplanted that gentler nature, and that old 
fierce, brutal, cynical nature possessed him with 
all its destructive pollution. His desperation was 
intensified as he stepped upon the bridge and once 
more beheld the everlasting fadeless blood-spot, 
the everlasting token that indicated the awful 
tragedy executed with his own merciless hands. 
Its ghastly realization haunted his memory, con- 
tinually gnawing at his conscience like the de- 
structive, consuming plague of pernicious moths. 
He stopped abruptly as his eyes fell upon it, and 
he stood there gazing at it with fixed, stony eyes. 

“Truth is pure and guileless,” he thought, “but, 
ah, how bitter it sometimes is ! I almost cherish 
the fancy that if this tragedy w'ere false, it would 
be sweet to my thirsty, cynical soul.” 

He stood there for several moments, gazing, 
while the past years of his tragical life rolled 
before him like the black haunts of an eternal 
perdition. If the sun had ceased to move in its 
lonely orbit, and the earth had lost its equilibri- 
um and gone whirling through the boundless 
universe like some reckless, heedless meteor, it 
would not have disturbed his complete oblivion 
to all his surroundings. 

At last the musical ripple of a merry laugh 
touched his ear, and he looked up and sighed 
heavily. It was the sweet, laughing voice of Mrs. 


CAIN. 


439 


Herman, who was young and beautiful and inno- 
cent. Leland knew the voice, but could not lo- 
cate it. He looked about him, but could not see 
any one. Drawing his hand across his scowling 
brow in a kind of perplexedness, he resumed his 
journey toward the Temple. 

Just as he emerged from the forest, he saw 
Mr. and Mrs. Herman emerge from the steps of 
the Grand Basilica. They were talking and 
laughing merrily. Mrs. Herman’s beautiful face 
was turned up to her husband’s in loving, obedi- 
ent trust; and while her lovely eyes looked ten- 
derly into his face, his face was turned smilingly 
down upon her, his eyes drinking in all the beauty 
of her charming loveliness; and he smiled ten- 
derly and passionately as he held her to his 
breast. 

There was an exquisite profusion of pretty 
flowers strewn with exuberance over the “Typical 
Altar of Faith,” and over the polished granite 
steps. These, with the luxuriance of the various 
other kinds of flowers growing in exquisitely regu- 
lar arrangement in the grassy yard and on each 
side of the concrete-paved walkways, made more 
charming the grandeur, and imparted to it the 
likeness of the “Poet’s Dream.” 

As Leland looked upon the scene, his soul was 
lifted for a moment to a perfect, refined taste of 
the beauty of the human conception of a grand 
paradise ; and in the midst of the little Eden there 
appeared the first two beings of His Own Like- 
ness — the perfect images of his own Greatness. 
Though they could not see Leland, he was close 


440 


CAIN. 


enough to see them and hear their conversation, 
which was as follows: 

‘^What quality of the heart, indeed, makes life 
worth living?” inquired Mr. Herman in a ten- 
der tone, as he held her face by placing his hand 
under her chin and turned it up that he might 
look down into the immaculate soul that was 
mirrored in her beautiful eyes. 

‘^It is love,” answered the beautiful wife with 
a sweet smile. 

‘^Is it so, indeed?” 

“Yes, you know — we all know — it has been 
whispered in our hearts — that love is all that is 
left to cherish; there is nothing at all worth 
living for save Love !” 

“That is right; love alone is worth living for — 
w'orth dying for! It is the only sunbeam that 
touches our hearts and puts a value on life. It 
alone, among all the other bits of pleasures, which 
are only mere phantasms fitted in deceptive garbs 
and capable only of instigating the keenest de- 
spair and disappointment, is the priceless virtue 
of this mysterious existence.” 

Mrs. Herman drew herself up from his clasp 
and sighed: 

“God pity the desolate heart that can claim no 
blessed love!” 

Leland could stand this no longer, but bursting 
into a flood of blinding tears, rushed away from 
w%ere he was standing, going stumbling along 
over the stumps and roots toward “Lonely Vi- 
cinity.” 

Once in the road and out of hearing, he sat 


CAIN. 


441 


down upon a log, giving himself up to the rank- 
ling of an unutterable despair. 

“Ah, how true !” he muttered, “she is right ; 
love only is worth living for. But do I possess 
it ? Alas ! no, I am scorned, disdained, turned 
mercilessly away. I can ‘^claim no blessed love.’ 
She invoked God’s pity on the soul that was deso- 
late of love ; but how useless ! All prayer and in- 
tercession is a flaunting mockery ! 

“Then, if love is worth living for, and I have 
it not, what need I to live any longer ? Why not 
end my existence now?” He dropped his head in 
a moody attitude. 

He rose with a feverish smile lurking in his 
feverish eyes and advanced in the direction of a 
tall cliff to which a delirious phantasm was de- 
coying him and whispering to his distorted rea- 
son that its yawning abyss contained a realm 
w'here peace and oblivion reigned supreme, and 
where all weary spirits might have rest forever. 
But his footsteps were arrested by the sound of 
another voice singing in the distance. It was a 
maiden’s voice. He thought he had heard the 
beautiful song before. This is what she sang ; 

“0 what is life ? *Tis like a flower 
That withers and is gone; 

It flourishes its little hour. 

With all its beauty on; 

Death comes, and, like a wintry day. 

It cuts the lovely flower away/" 

Its grand, pathetic sentiments awakened him 
from his delirious, frenzied state of mind, and by 


442 


CAIN. 


some strange providence the immortality of the 
soul suggested itself to him, and he remembered 
the quotation which he repeated to himself: 

heaven itself that points out a hereafter. 
And intimates eternity to man.*' 

He leaned his head against a tree and gave him- 
self up to meditation. He was aroused by a touch 
upon his arm, and he looked around to see his 
aunt standing by his side. Tears were in her 
eyes. 

^^Leland, what is troubling your heart?’’ she 
inquired. “There is something very painful to 
you; what is it?” 

Leland took her in his arms and strained her 
to his heart, weeping passionately the while. 

“Aunt Nettie,” he managed to say sobbingly, 
“it is a trouble that I must bear alone. You 
could not help me. I am tired. Go home and be 
at ease as to where I am. I am going away for a 
while.” 

He turned and walked wearily down a little 
narrow path in the direction of the village. Mrs. 
Harwell returned home with one expression ring- 
ing in her heart, — “I am tired.” 


GAIN. 


443 


CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Midxight storms! Raging like ten thousand 
black tempests over the bleak, frozen land of the 
North ! 

A storm was coming, — wide — deep — dark 1 The 
sky rolled angrily up with the hidden snow. In 
the north there was a dull, red gleam, low, near 
the horizon, and just above it hung a deep, black 
cloud. Near the zenith a few lusterless stars shed 
a chilly light through the Arctic darkness. 

^^Storm is coming I” said the old Dane solemnly, 
and with a strange, unusual but significant mean- 
ing. 

‘‘Yonder is the Death Arch ! See, the Rain- 
bow Bridge 1 Ah, Glory, — Victory — Naomi I at 
last! I see the sons of Muspelheim rushing across 
the great bridge and the flames of burning fire 
trailing after them. Onward they go, riding over 
Bifrost. And look, it breaks under their horses’ 
hoofs ! But joy and victory ! They disregard it, 
and I see them hurrying on to the battlefield 
of Vigrid. Ah, there is Loki writhing and twist- 
ing, yonder is Odin’s hall. And I see Hela’s fol- 
lowers and the Frost Giants. The gods of Val- 
halla and Miffleheim are assembling. 

“Hark! I hear the sound of the Gialler horn 


444 


CAIN. 


as the summoning Heimdall blows it. A great 
devastation is raging. The gods advance to the 
Vigrid battlefield, led on by Odin. At last, 0 
Joy, — Victory — Glory! It is Eagnarok, the Twi- 
light of the Gods 

The old Dane stood apart on a large, icy rock, 
with his sinewy hands stretched toward the black 
heavens, and by the faint light of his small guid- 
ing lantern on the little ponies that were hitched 
to the sledge, Mamie and Mr. Paix saw a strange 
rapture beaming over his noble ruddy face. He 
had never looked that way before. The wind came 
over the gloomy hills in a gushing tempest, driv- 
ing snow and sleet in wildest commotion before it, 
and absolute darkness settled over the land. The 
wind howled and roited among the trees and hur- 
ried on its shrieking career. 

^Tather, let us go home. The storm is terri- 
ble cried Mamie with a shudder. But she could 
scarcely be heard. The Dane heard her not and 
continued his strange talking; but the tempest 
grew so loud that his voice was lost in the roar- 
ing commotion. Mamie looked back at the dark 
entrance of the gloomy cavern-tomb which they 
had just visited and she would fain have retreated 
to its shelter. She called her father again and 
again, but she heard no answer. She tried to look 
for him but the stinging pellets of driving hail 
and sleet blinded her. 

The storm grew fiercer. 

Then suddenly a great vivid light flashed over 
the land and across the skies. It burned bril- 
liantly for a moment — blazed brighter than the 
sun ; and the snowclad hills and mountains looked 


CAIN. 


445 


like vast prodigious fields of glittering jewels. 
Amphion was close to his daughter and the} looked 
at each other a moment; then Mamie extended 
her hands to him and he shouted as he reached for 
her : 

‘^Hick ah valla; Van Dyka, Loki/’ which 
means: ^^The vengeance of the gods of Muspel- 
heim be upon the wicked; but peace forever to 
the pure and good. 0 Loki V’ but just as Am- 
phion was about to reach Mamie the light van- 
ished forevermore. Intense darkness swallowed 
up everything. 

Then hark ! A deafening roar echoed dread- 
fully and horribly over the resonant hills and 
mountains. A deep — terrible — hungry roar 
raged and bounded over the great mountains and 
tumbled into the valleys — then rose — leaped 
wildly back — retreated — advanced, — then galloped 
away in the distance. Its echoes were followed by 
a terrible earthquake, the dreary hills and moun- 
tains seemed to rise and fall like the huge heav- 
ing bosom of a tempest-tossed ocean. It was a 
violent earthquake — more violent than Iceland 
had experienced for a long time. 

Mamie was thrown violently to the ground. The 
Dane staggered and fell, but rose again. And 
Paix caught to the cavern rocks but they were 
hurled from him and he fell. Great masses of 
huge rocks and great quantities of snow and ici- 
cles crumbled and tumbled from the bluffs and 
cliffs and fell round them. They could not see 
each other. 

As the sturdy old Dane tried to stand on his 
feet he was suddenly hurled to the ground by a 


446 


CAIN. 


falling mass of snow and ice. Then, crash ! down 
came a mass of jagged rocks and mashed him into 
the snow. 

The earth still shook and the land trembled and 
“The everlasting hills did bow.” 

At length the quaking quieted to calmer oscil- 
lations, and finally to slight tremors. Mr. Paix 
rose. Mamie rose. But neither could see the 
other. 

They brushed the snow and cinders from their 
clothes the best they could, and went groping their 
way through the intense darkness. Mamie knew 
not which way to go. 

The snowstorm increased. The bitter wind 
howled and moaned about her and shrieked 
through the barren trees. She stumbled in the 
darkness, fell in the snow, rose again, and hur- 
ried on, knowing not whither she went. She 
groped her way on and on till suddenly she went 
down, down, down, — oh, horrible, yawning abyss ! 
— crash! into a deep snow-filled ravine. She was 
insensible. What ? — Dead ? 

All was desolation and gloom and darkness! 
— Choas ! 

Hours passed away, and then the dim faint 
dawn of day showed faintly that the night had 
passed and that the day had come. 

The storm had ceased and a weird stillness 
reigned everywhere. The sharp snow-covered 
crests of the mountains rose like huge traditional 
monuments against the black sky. 

Paix grew cold and numb and lost all hope of 
finding the others. He started back to “Palace 
Garden,” when, shrewd and careful and ever- 


CAIN. 


U1 

watchful, he noticed an unusually large heap 
buried under an immense snowdrift, and he con- 
jectured that some one might be under it. 

He proceeded to remove the snow, and after 
a great effort he reached a pile of rocks. He 
brushed the snow from the crevices and suddenly 
exclaimed : 

'"Mon Dieu! here he is 

At last, after much exertion, he managed to 
disinter the bruised and mangled and unconscious 
old Dane from his rocky, icy grave. He was yet 
alive, for his heart beat faintly. But cold, stiff 
and frozen, his body lay upon the frozen snow; 
and his swarthy features and tangled silver locks 
looked death-like as he lay with his life-blood ooz- 
ing from his mouth. 

Paix looked solemn. ^‘He is almost dead.” 

He managed to take him home; and at last he 
rested on a soft downy bed in the comfortable 
quarters of his beautifiil Palace. 

Leaving watchers by the bedside of the dying 
King, Paix hurried away in search of Mamie. 

As fortune would have it, he had not searched 
long till an old hag met him on her way from 
the village to ‘^Garden Palace” and she informed 
him that she had fortunately found “the beau- 
tiful girl” unconscious, and buried almost en- 
tirely in snow in the deep ravine; that she had 
carried her to a neat, comfortable little cabin in 
the village; that “the beautiful girl” had regained 
consciousness, but was absolutely unable to return 
to her home. “She wants her father to come to 
her,” said she. 

“Her father is slowly dying from a fatal wound 


448 CAIN. 

received from last night’s storm,” answered the 
Frenchman. 

'‘Then I will return and tell her.” 

"No, indeed, never! It will kill her! Wait 
till she is stronger. Is she comfortably cared 
for ?” 

"Yes, Amphion’s daughter is in good, kind 
hands. May the gods preserve her life.” 

She turned and walked away through the snow 
and darkness. 

Paix drew his furs and rugs more closely 
around him and drove on hurriedly toward the 
village. 

He arrived at last, and hiring a lad to hold his 
team, he went up to the door of a low cabin and 
knocked. He was answered by a gruff old wom- 
an who partly opened the door and looked at the 
strange visitor. 

"Is one Mamie Homean here ?” asked Paix 
kindly. 

"Yas, Amphion MaldemaPs daughter is here.” 

"Say to her that Paix has a message for her.” 

The woman closed the door, and all was si- 
lence and darkness again. Paix waited and shiv- 
ered with the cold blasts of the bitter north wind 
shrieking about him. At last the woman returned 
and admitted him. 

Paix’s attention was called to a low pallet bed 
in a corner of the room, where the Dane’s daughter 
lay suffering, perhaps dying. He looked tenderly 
at the pale, weary face of the suffering girl. Her 
eyes were closed. 

"She is resting now,” said Paix to the woman 
of the house. "I shall come to see her again 


CAIN. 449 

to-morrow. You can tell her that I will come. 
Good-by.” 

‘^Good-by.” 

Paix stepped out; the door closed behind him, 
shutting him out from all that was comfortable, 
and he hurried away to “Garden Palace.” Once 
he looked back and a few flickering lights showed 
the dim outline of the lonely village. He sighed 
and urged on his team. 

Paix went often to the village to see Mamie, 
who showed but few signs of recovery. Death 
seemed to hover over the desolate, dreary, shad- 
owy land. The severe winter grew more bitter 
all the while. 

At last frenzy seized her, and while no one 
was in the room she rose, dressed herself the 
best she could, drew her heavy furs about her, 
and staggered from the room out into the bitter 
cold. She looked wildly about her and mur- 
mured : 

“Leland — Naomi — my Mother — 0 Father — is 
this death! I am cold.” She moved on and on 
like a slowly creeping shadowy spectre, and was 
lost in the Arctic darkness. 

The old Dane was slowly sinking. “I want to 
see my daughter, Tjonkon,’ ” he murmured. 

“She is in the village sick from the injuries re- 
ceived in the storm and cannot come now, my 
lord,” answered Paix. 

“By the gods !” exclaimed the old Dane furi- 
ously. “And you have not told me! Is she re- 
covering ?” 

“Yes, slowly,” answered Paix. 

“Poor ‘Fjonkon !^ good-by, my dear sweet child 


450 


CAIN. 


Give me wine ! I am sinking — sinking — sink- 
ing! Come closer and hear my last words, for 
my voice is growing weak.” 

The man obeyed and the Dane continued: 

'^Give my daughter this letter when I am gone. 
I was aware of her absence, but did not know but 
that she was in her room, and dreaded to see me 
suffering. But, poor thing! she is suffering too. 
But she will get well and be happy. She will 
weep when she reads my letter, but in it she will 
find expressions of joy and victory, for I am go- 
ing to enter the wide-open door of Valhalla. In 
my letter I have invoked the blessings of the gods 
to rest upon her.” He gasped for breath, then 
exclaimed as he rose to his feet with a sudden im- 
pulse of strength: 

“Hark ! I hear the thundering Thor ! I see the 
wide-open doors of Valhalla ! look at the fiying 
steeds, the fiying ravens! Ah, Victory! Yonder 
are the Valkyrior. I am one of the ^chosen slain.’ 
The storm has slain me. I am going. Farewell ! 
Come on, Naomi, ah, Naomi !” 

He stretched out his bony hands and there 
was the triumphant smile on his face; then he 
fell-dead ! 

They laid him on his bed and after a few hours’ 
waiting he was laid away to rest by the side of his 
beloved Naomi. The King — the last royal de- 
scendant of the line of Kings — had gone to feast 
in the magnificent courts of Valhalla. 

When Paix returned he saw from the brow of 
a hill down which he was descending a wonderful 
light on the Island. He saw the blazes leap- 
ing toward the black, starless heavens. He was 


CAIN. 


451 


astonished. What could it mean? He hurried 
on, and when he arrived at the great, heavy gate, 
he saw the dead King’s Palace on — fire! Great 
flames leaped and twisted and roared through the 
darkness of the Arctic night like the blazes of a 
strange and new and more terrible Hades. 

"i/on DieuT exclaimed Paix. 

He sat down and saw the beautiful Palace burn 
to ashes. And he was startled by a strange voice 
wailing behind him and he saw the pale face of 
Mamie near him. She was looking with a strange 
bewilderment in her beautiful, sad, suffering, 
brown eyes, and her thin, wasted form dilated as 
she extended her wasted hands imploringly and 
inquiringly toward her perishing home. Yes, it 
was Mamie, her face pale and suffering, — her 
beautiful brown hair was flowing in rich waves 
over the furs about her shoulders. 

“I have come home to my father,” she said in 
a dull, sad voice. "Tell him to come to his suf- 
fering daughter, for I can’t go any farther — I 
am — so tired.” 

"Your father is sleeping with the heroes of 
Valhalla,” said Paix. "He is dead !” 

"0 father I father ! why didn’t you wait for 
your suffering child?” She extended her hands 
toward the gloomy cavern. "I am coming — com- 
ing — coming — She paused, then went on : "Oh ! 
— I am — so tired. I have no home to rest in; 
it is all ashes, ashes, ashes, now.” 

She staggered backward and was about to fall 
back upon the hard frozen snow, when she fell 
into the arms of — Iceland Burnett ! 

He clasped her passionately to his heart. 


462 


CAIN. 


‘^Mamie ! Mamie he whispered. ^Toor Mamie ! 
I have come back to you, my darling. And — ^you 
— are — dying !” His voice was broken, as he 
strained her to his heart. He had never felt so 
happy since he held her in his arms in the silent 
sanctuary of ^‘Gethsemane’^ Temple. 

She looked fondly up into his handsome face 
and passionate eyes and smiled faintly; but soon 
a shadow came over her pale face. 

^'You love me, Mamie he murmured with a 
strange eloquent rapture. 

She shook her head and smiled sadly while 
tears filled her eyes. 

She dropped her head over against his breast 
and fainted. 

'^Mon Dieu! Chere Cain, what brings you 
here ?” 

Paix shook his hand and looked perplexed, 
will tell you later. What shall we do, Paix ?’ 

‘^Voila! Cain, the Palace perished in the 
flames !” 

^^Yes, I see; but why has it perished? Who 
burned it?” 

do not know; we have just returned from 
burying the Dane and find it burning !” 

‘^What! Amphion Maldemar dead!” 

^^Sure !” 

'‘How fortunate that I have come to my dar- 
ling’s rescue !” and he kissed the pale face of the 
woman he held in his arms. "I see,” he went on 
solemnly. "Disaster has swooped down upon the 
mysterious mansion and its secluded, supersti- 
tious, pagan master in the lonely, dreary Arctic 
midnight of the long changeless night of the 


CAIN. 


453 


Northland. We will go back to America, bidding 
Iceland farewell forever 

^‘Good exclaimed Paix. ^^We must be off right 
away.” 

And soon preparations were made to leave this 
land of ice and snow and everlasting darkness. 

They boarded the ‘‘Lorelei” in a short time 
and bade farewell to the dark, gloomy, tradi- 
tional, superstitious shores of frozen Iceland and 
sailed away to the Sunny South. 


454 


CAIN. 


CHAPTER XXXIV. 

The thrilling melody of a mocking-bird was 
heard in the tree-tops in front of the old home- 
stead on the banks of the still, muddy Cumber- 
land; a calm, sedative repose seemed to bless the 
long-deserted home; and the voices of eary spring- 
time were merry with rapture and glad songs of 
nature. 

The sunshine of dawn stole through the window 
and painted gold upon the wall; a gentle breeze 
whispered gladness in the room and made silver- 
crested ripples on the bowl of clear water which 
sat on the center-table ; a cluster of beautiful pink 
flowers that had been plucked from the early dawn 
nodded in these breezes as they hung their fsa- 
grant blossoms over the edges of the vase near 
the windows; a large white cat sought felicity in 
the golden sunlight that fell like the touch of 
Midas on the rich crimson rug at the door, and 
he dreamed the morning sunny hours away in fe- 
line tranquillity. Through the window came the 
distant melody of a lad’s morning-song, which 
was interspersed with halloes something like the 
cry of a Mohammedan muezzin crying the hour 
of prayer. 

The room was fragrant with the odors of vio- 


CAIN. 455 

lets, and the smile of love rested serenely on 
everything. 

In his cushioned easy-chair rested the aged 
Roscoe Homean with his venerable head thrown 
back and his calm blue eyes gazing listlessly out 
through the window toward the golden sunlit 
prospect of the southern landscape, while in his 
lap lay a copy of the Talmud which he had been 
studying. 

Close by his side on a soft, downy bed rested 
the wasted form of Mamie Homean. Her pallid 
features were weary and pensive; lines of sorrow 
traced about her pretty lips and showed marked 
symptoms of very evident mental as well as physi- 
cal suffering. 

She had been unconscious during the voyage 
from the North Land and it was not until long 
after Mrs. Dillion and Lilian had journeyed South 
with her to her childhood home to which they 
had learned that the long-lost Roscoe Homean had 
returned, that she became conscious again. 

It was one night when she heard the dear voice 
of her foster-father near her bedside in prayer 
that she opened her bewildered eyes to find her- 
self at her old home again, — at last, after so 
many years of sorrow, humility and suffering. At 
first she could not realize where she was; then, as 
the sunlight suddenly breaks through the clouds 
she saw, with supreme rapture, that it was, in- 
deed, ‘^Home, Sweet Home,’^ and that her foster- 
father was by her bedside praying as she had heard 
him in the dreamy childhood of long ago. Though 
feeble she was, she rose quietly and knelt near him 
and wept like a child, and this weeping was such 


456 


CAIN. 


a relief to her. She felt the burden lifting from 
her heavy-laden heart and gladness soothed the 
pain that had tortured there so long. 

The familiar voice of her foster-father had 
awakened her from the long dreaming apathy, and 
she was Mamie Homean once more. 

When he had closed his sacred supplication, 
Mamie stole her trembling arm around his neck, 
kissed him and whispered softly: 

“Dear father, please do not go away from me 
any more. I have come home at last to stay. I 
have no other friend but you. Oh, won’t you 
stay with this poor broken-hearted, friendless or- 
phan ?” 

The old man rose, put her from him, and 
looked at her a moment in wonder; then he 
smiled and kissed her, for he knew that she had 
awakened. 

“And I have come home to stay,” he said ten- 
derly. “My sweet little bird, my little Mamie, 
I will never leave you.” 

“Oh, I can get well now,” and her voice was 
faintly happy as she hid her sad beautiful face 
against her foster-father’s bosom and wept pas- 
sionately. There was a holy silence. 

And on this beautiful spring morning as the 
venerable, aged, superannuated minister sat in 
his easy-chair, a holy calm settled over his serene 
countenance. His wrinkled cheeks and brow and 
silvery locks were glorious evidences of a long 
life of labor and misfortune, but there was a 
holy, divine expression written on his thin pale 
face which satisfied the observer that he was a 


CAIN. 


457 


chosen saint of glory, and that a peaceful sun- 
set would bless his last days. 

The mocking-bird flew away across the fields 
toward the river, and carried his song with him; 
the dreaming cat on the rug bounded away after 
a bird that twitted on the cistern pump ; and Ma- 
mie turned to Mr. Homean and broke his medita- 
tive reverie: 

“Father, you have never told me who murdered 
my foster-mother and carried you away. Can’t 
you tell me now?” 

A shadow of pain flitted across the furrowed 
brow of the old man and he sighed deeply. 

“Yes, Mamie, I will tell you now;” he paused 
a moment and looked away through the open win- 
dow, and tears came into his eyes. “Alton Tol- 
liver, Mr. Mathes and another robber, Sam Hold- 
en, were the men who stopped you and asked 
you if my wife and I were at home that memor- 
able morning. Alton never told you on his death- 
bed that he helped to murder your foster-mother, 
did he?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Well, he did. They came to rob me of the 
money which I had already given to you and Ice- 
land; but failing to find it, of course, they de- 
manded it of me and threatened my life if I 
didn’t give it to them. And as I didn’t make 
any effort to find it they threatened to kill my 
wife and to capture me and keep me in custody 
till I felt disposed to yield. Sam Holden shot 
her down w’hile she was trying to defend herself 
and me, and they carried me away to an old hid- 
den cave dungeon somewhere in the wilds of Mon- 


458 


CAIN. 


tana mountains and kept me for three years ; 
and after they learned that I had disposed of my 
wealth by bequeathing it to you and Leland, they 
released me. Holden died soon after and Mathes 
disappeared mysteriously and I never heard of 
him again. 

‘H rejoiced that I was released and was happy 
on my way back to my old home, when Alton 
Tolliver overtook me in St. Louis and demanded 
that I must never return to my home again; that 
if I did he would burn it down some night while 
I slept in it. He further demanded that I change 
my name; that if I ever let my friends know 
that I was still alive and Eoscoe Homean, my 
home would be burned while I slept. This he 
said; no more, and turned away. I have never 
seen him since, but I learned that he died a des- 
perate wretch in Amphion’s dungeon in dreary 
Iceland. Then I came back to my old home free 
and unmolested. But I found it decaying, com- 
fortless; and my dear loving companion gone.” 
He paused; his silvery beard quivered as his lips 
trembled, and he brushed away the blinding tears 
from his eyes. 

^The last memeory of my dear, precious wife 
was as I saw her looking pleadingly at me for 
help, with the shadows of death fast gathering 
about her face. She was on the floor, dying, and 
I could not help her. Oh, how terrible!” 

He sobbed bitterly. 

‘‘You know the rest, how she was buried, what 
became of you, etc.” 

“I turned sadly away when Alton Tolliver 
threatened destruction to my home, and assumed 


CAIN. 


459 


another name, studied for the ministry, got li- 
cense, and went forth to preach the gospel to 
sinners. I rose rapidly to distinction in the min- 
istry, and God crowned my labors with success. 
I never knew you were living till I saw you again 
at the dedication service at the Temple near 
‘Gethsemane.^ Then my heart was glad to know 
that you were a beautiful, intelligent Christian 
lady. I almost hesitated to tell you that I was 
your foster-father, but I felt that I must. 

^Tt is all very strange — how Leland became an 
infidel, a vagabond in the sight of God, how you 
wandered over the world homeless, and without 
a friend, how you were so strangely and mysteri- 
ously and providentially led to find your real 
father, your own native land, and to learn the 
mystery of your past life. Thank God, it is all 
over now and we are once more back to the beau- 
tiful home we used to love so well.” 

There was a holy silence and Mamie turned 
her face toward heaven and her lips moved in 
silent prayer while tears stole through the long 
silken lashes of her closed eyelids. She fell 
asleep, and while she slept Mr. Homean rose, 
took down his walking-cane and went slowly out 
through the yard and down to the little spring 
to get a drink of its cool water. 

The aged old man looked silently down at the 
rippling water as it unrolled its silvery bands 
along under the verdant canopies along its way 
and sank away into the Cumberland by subterra- 
nean conduits like the fabulous Pirenean fountain 
of Corinth. 

The old man was thinking of his tragical life. 


460 


C A I K . 


He had been no coward, but rather than besmeai 
his hands with the blood of mankind he had 
humbled to the Sciron Robbers of his happiness, 
and even though they did kick him into the murky 
sea of suffering while he humbly washed their 
feet on the Scironian rock hoping for pity and 
compassion from them, he was yet free from 
blood-guiltiness and at peace with his Maker and 
his fellowman in the calm serene sunset of his 
life. The supremacy of Pax was his realm of 
peace. 

He took a pleasant stroll about to the familiar 
haunts of the old homestead and was absent for 
some time. 

While Mamie slept she was awakened by a call 
from the door-bell. 

“Come in,^’ she said; and slowly, like a spirit, 
an old woman entered the room and paused to 
look at Mamie. Mamie recoiled and screamed 
as she recognized the hideous face of Madame 
Fauk standing over her. 

“Fear not. I am no hideous messenger from 
Loki’s black world, I bring you good tidings.” 
The woman took her seat near the bed and asked 
kindly : 

“How is the poor ^Fjonkon’ to-day? Better, 
I hope?” 

“Mamie, I have come all the way from Iceland 
to Cairo, Eg5^pt, and from there to America since 
you saw me last. Here is a letter that your 
father requested me to bring to you, which he 
wrote on his death-bed. 

“When your father was young he purchased me 
as a slave from a slave-dealer in the — well, 1 


C A I K . 


461 


must never tell my nationality — anyhow, he pur- 
chased me as his slave and took me to Iceland. 

^‘Amphion made me swear to the gods that 1 
would immediately after his death bury his body 
by his wife in the cavern- tomb, then burn his 
beautiful mansion, that no strange eyes should 
ever behold its magnificence again while the world 
should last. I burned ‘Garden Palace T I kept 
my oathr 

Mamie looked bewildered at her. Madame 
Fauk burned her beautiful home in the far Xorth 
Land ! But she fulfilled her oath, which surely 
must be sacred, for she had sworn to the gods 
of her dead father. Mamie sighed; she was sat- 
isfied; she simply said, '^Go on.^^ 

^^His money was in a hidden marble vault in a 
decaying Mosque in Cairo, Egypt. He commanded 
me to go to Egypt, procure the money (for he 
had taken me there years before and had shown 
me where he had hidden it), and bring it to 
you. This I have done, for that was a part of 
my oath. Here is the beautiful golden casket; 
In it you will find ten million dollars and an in- 
strument of writing which gives you title to his 
possessions in Iceland.’^ 

She paused and smiled a moment, then folded 
her hands and went on : 

^^Thank the gods ! My task is done ; my free- 
dom has come ! I go back to Iceland to dwell 
in peace and happiness and blessed seclusion in 
the lonely cavern- tomb till the gods call me to 
the joys of Valhalla. There I will watch as a 
faithful vigil over the dead bodies of my three 
friends, Amphion, Naomi, and Van de Dreary. 


462 


CAIN. 


Good-by, my dear little friend, Tjonkon.’ I am 
going away to the North Land 

She smiled and turned away. Soon she was 
gone. Mamie watched her slowly disappear down 
toward the river, then sighed and laid her head 
back upon the pillow. All this was so strange to 
her — the mysterious woman, her connection with 
her father, the golden casket, the burning of the 
mansion and the fulfilling of oaths were all new 
to her. 

She wondered what could be in her father’s 
letter. She broke it open and unfolded the sheet, 
and in perfect silence she read: 

My Beloved “Fjonkon”: 

Good-by, Mamie, mine. The gods have sum- 
moned me to the grand feast. But ^^good-by” is 
for but a short time — you will come to me — to 
your mother, somewhere, ah, yes, somewhere. 
Man is immortal and all good people will meet 
again to live and love forever together. Madame 
Fauk wull be good to settle my affairs after I’m 
gone, and all that I have is yours; take it with 
my blessing. The gods be with thee ever, is my 
prayer. 

You have always wanted to know why you were 
called “Fjonkon.” I write it now, and for the 
sake of your dead father’s and mother’s memory 
never tell it, for it is a sacred name. Your 
mother had a dream one time soon after you were 
born and she heard a voice saying, ‘^Thou shaft 
call the babe “Fjonkon,” the child of sorrow; she 
must suffer much for my sake.” 

Naomi always wanted to call you Fjonkon 


CAIN. 


463 


You have been child of sorrow/’ but thy 
father on his death-bed invokes the blessing of 
the gods upon thee henceforth and forever. 

Be good, be true, be faithful. 

I am the last of my royal family and Madame 
Fauk bums my beautiful palace, leaving not an 
earthly trace of my dead ancestors. My ancient 
djmasty becomes extinct at my death. And I am 
proud of the brave, heroic warriors — the noble 
line of kings to which I belong. 

I die in peace and glory ! 

Peace be to thee forever. 

Your loving father, 

Amphion Maldemar. 

Mamie kissed her father’s farewell ; and as she 
laid it on the table, blinding tears filled her eyes 
and she wept long and silently as she thought of 
the father whose life had been stormy, supersti- 
tious, but brave and honest, and which had gone 
down in paganish darkness — forever? Nay, nay 
— for her father was too pure to be eternally lost. 
She believed he was in glory. 

After many weeks Mamie recovered. She was 
content to be happy at the dear home of her 
childhood. Happy? Yes, as happy as her dear 
old home could make her; but she was “tired” 
and weary, and the fair, sweet face grew more 
hopeless each day. 

She was standing one evening reading a letter 
which she had just received from Lilian Bil- 
lion. She looked away toward the glowing sunset 
and she heard the aged Mr. Homean singing a 
sacred hymn down by the river, and she smiled 


464 


CAIN. 

sa^y as her peaceful lips murmured with pathos : 

“I know I ought to be thankful, for the dear 
Lord blesses me abundantly. Oh! why am I al- 
ways sad?” 

How keenly she felt the sense of that "Vacancy” 
of which Leland had spoken when he first loved 
her! 

She had many friends who came to visit her 
frorn Nashville. She gave them weekly social re- 
ceptions, and always a gay party came to Mr. Ho- 
mean s beautiful home to enjoy the pleasures of 
Mamie’s ""Parties.” 

One beautiful morning Mamie was sitting in 
her parlor-room, reading from the Nashville 
Americdrij when she noticed an announcement 
that Leland Burnett would lecture at the Ven- 
dome Theatre in Nashville on the night of July 
16th, on his famous new lecture, ""The Prince of 
Darkness.” 

The paper fell from her hands and she uttered 
a pitiful groan and murmured: 

""Merciful Lord, please lift the burden from 
my heart, for it is more than I can bear.” 

She buried her face in her hands and fell into 
meditation.^ She pondered whether she should go 
to hear him or not. She had not seen him since 
he held her in his arms in Iceland, and she was 
so hungry to see him. While she meditated, Mr. 
Homean came in and exclaimed: 

""Mamie, do you know that Leland will lecture 
in Nashville to-morrow night? Just think of it!” 

""Yes, father, I have just been reading it.” 

""Why, Mamie, you are crying! What is the 
matter?” 


CAIN. 


465 


think I must be foolish; I was thinking of 
Leland,” she said with a dull, sad voice. 

‘^Don^t cry, darling, dry your tears and be 
cheerful. Shall we go to hear him?’^ 

^‘Yes, father,” she whispered. 

That night as the venerable old minister led 
his beautiful, elegantly and richly dressed foster- 
child into the brilliant theatre where thousands of 
faces were assembled, he felt grateful and happy 
that the foster-children that he had raised were 
making his last days the happiest. 

When they were seated, Mamie fancied she saw 
a familiar face across the crowded spacious gal- 
lery, and lifting her opera-glass to her eyes she 
recognized the faces of Mr. and Mrs. Dillion, Lili- 
an Dillion, Edward Linden, Mr. Paix, Mrs. 
Herman and many other friends whom she 
used to know in Washington. And her heart 
felt glad to know that Leland’s friends would 
come so far to show how much they appreciated 
him. She saw poor Mrs. Tolliver nearer to her 
with some other friends in Nashville and she said 
to herself as she pitied her: 

“Ah! Poor Alton!” 

She was impatient to see Leland appear on the 
stage, and her fond eyes turned very often to the 
decorated rostrum, where her lover was soon to 
stand. 

Suddenly a loud burst of applause rang wildly 
over the crowded galleries as Leland Burnett came 
upon the stage with other distinguished gentle- 
men in attendance. The applause grew wilder 
with renewed enthusiasm, and it was some time 
before quiet prevailed. 


466 


CAIN. 


Then after a brief introduction, Leland Burnett 
rose and came forward, and said in part: 

Ladies and Gentlemen: 

It was my pleasure to be in your midst many 
years ago and I am delighted to say that my 
heart is overflowing with gladness since I come 
to realize that I am permitted to be with you all 
once more. I am grateful for your presence. 

I come to you this evening with a message that 
is bom of a theme that is fathomless and pro- 
found in its vast expanse. Philosophers and critics 
and sages have been delving into its wonderful 
depths since men first began to solve the Mystery 
of Existence, and yet the vast speculation is only 
a mortal’s dream of some goal that is never 
reached. 

Infidels try to solve the great mystery by the 
prerogative of reason — Ix)gic ! They try to de- 
nounce the Bible on the merits of its inconsist- 
ency ! They say there is No God ! No Heaven ! 
— NoHell ! They try to slay the conscience that 
rises and proclaims that there is a God. 

But in every instance since the first infidel re- 
belled, these efforts have proven an absolute 
fatuity. 

They deny the Immaculate Conception, but the 
fact that such a man as Jesus Christ lived and 
died no man beneath the sun denies. Once in- 
fidels denied that when taken from the cross 
Jesus was dead — that He only swooned and was 
seemingly dead and that afterward he revived and 
never tasted death. Of course, there is not a 
single fact that sustains this improbable theory. 


CAIN. 


467 


Jesus lived and died! Again infidels have been 
for all ages trying to chisel on the Rock of Jo- 
seph’s New Tomb that there is no resurrection ! 
They claim that Jesus is in his grave like the dead 
bodies of millions who have preceded and fol- 
lowed him to the tomb. 

If so, why was this not the last of him? He 
came into the world to establish a kingdom, which 
he did; and why was it that his kingdom rose in 
spite of the persecuting world that rose in in- 
surrection against him ? He was as dead while he 
lay in the gloomy sepulchre as any corpse that 
was ever laid out in the everlasting repose of 
death. He had established his kingdom without 
pomp or splendor, formulated creed or founded 
Koran; at his death there was not a square inch 
of parchment in the world that contained a line 
that he had ever written, and yet his kingdom was 
raised up again ! He came to overturn the king- 
doms of the world, and to establish His king- 
dom — the Kingdom of Heaven. His kingdom 
was established without one drop of blood shed 
save his own, without a sword drawn save that 
of the impetuous Simon Peter, which he rebuked ; 
and while he was in his shroud of death where 
was his kingdom? Who would dare to fight for 
his cause as he hung on the cross of Calvary? 
Would it be the blind to whom he had restored 
sight? Would it be the paralytic through whose 
withered veins he had commanded the blood to 
flow? Would it be the poor whom he had helped 
and healed and comforted and taught the plan of 
salvation? Nay, they could not, for does this 
kind build principalities and found kingdoms? 


468 


CAIN. 


And yet his kingdom rose. His divine supremacy 
reigned; and to-day, after nearly nineteen hun- 
dred years, the mighty power of His kingdom has 
shaken the world. Jesus of Nazareth alone did 
more during the three short years of His labor 
in the scene of human action than all the com- 
bined forces of men during all the ages since God 
began to Eeign and Eule. Jean Paul Eichter 
said: 'He lifted with his pierced hands empires 
off of their hinges, and turned the stream of cen- 
turies out of its channel, and still governs the 
ages.^ 

Since Jesus Christ came into the world His 
kingdom has survived every other kingdom in the 
world. Kingdoms have fallen ; dynasties have 
perished; empires have been overturned and the 
whole world revolutionized, and yet His Cause 
stands impregnable against the imprecations and 
rebellions of foolish infidels and powerless unbe- 
lievers. 

The infidel is a "prince of darkness.” I see 
him weave his shining web about the tender sym- 
pathies of smiling youth, and decoy the mutiable 
heart into his seemingly brilliant labyrinth, then 
coil himself about it like a slimy reptile and 
strangle the noble spirit forever. I see him laugh 
then at the havoc that he has played. He is a 
cunning, treacherous fiend that sings siren melo- 
dies to those unsuspecting souls whom he plans to 
capture, and when they become his victims he 
howls and laughs with fiendish delight over his 
victorious conquest. He steals himself into happy 
homes, and for a while makes himself a generous, 
noble character, winning their entire confidence; 


CAIN. 


469 


then he suddenly blots out the sunshine there 
forever and hurls the black clouds of Satan^s in- 
fidelity where God’s divine smile had blessed. He 
attacks young manhood in their hours of weak- 
ness, and destroys hope, happiness, aspiration. 
Love forever. 

Young men and young ladies, I come to you to- 
night with a sacred monition. Do not listen to 
an infidel one moment of your time, for from him 
you can hope to obtain no comfort, no hope, no 
love, no light; all that he will ever tell you will 
make you gloomy, hopeless, desperate, and he will 
wreck your life forever. 

The infidel says there is no God; but God says 
the ^Tool” has said in his heart there is no God. 
God says that it isn’t given unto all men to know 
the mystery of his way. Infidels say that nothing 
is true that cannot be proven. God says, “That 
natural man receiveth not the things of the Spirit 
of God ; for they are foolishness unto him ; neither 
can he know them, for they are spiritually dis- 
cerned.” 

The infidel sees only through the lens of Logic ; 
God’s people see through the bright open sunlight 
of the Spirit. 

The Holy Bible says there is a God. But the 
infidel says the Bible is false and inconsistent. It 
is Not ! It says that Christ would be rejected and 
crucified, and he was; it said that fools have said 
there is no God, and they have. It said that 
Christ would rule the world, and He does. It 
says, “As thou knowest not what is in the way of 
the spirit: even so thou knowest not the works of 
God who maketh all,” and that is true. 


470 


CAIN. 


It says that men would be persecuted for 
Christ’s sake, and they have been. Oh, infidel, 
there is not one promise in God’s Word that has 
not and is not being fulfilled. If you can find one 
my cause is conquered ! 

The ^Trince of Darkness” cannot believe what 
he cannot understand. That is his false heresy. 
Can he understand the mystery of our Existence? 
Does he not know that we do exist? And yet he 
says that he cannot believe that which he cannot 
understand. Ah, how inconsistent is his code of 
skeptical proclivities. He must believe that we do 
exist, and can he understand it? He overthrows 
his own argument. 

The infidel is a coward, for he seeks to inject 
his poison in the hearts of the young. He attacks 
the heart when it is weak. He flees from the 
wrath of an outraged Jehovah and hopes to hide 
his sins in darkness, and says there is no God. 
He is a coward, for why does he not advance his 
cause in heathen lands as Christians do? He 
knows that there is nothing to sustain it. Why 
does he not organize into a united organization? 
Because his followers are few, and his doctrine 
promises no happy hope, no Eternal home, no 
everlasting rest and heavenly joy ! He gropes in 
darkness. He is ‘‘The Prince of Darkness.” 

My message is to you who are yet pure and 
untainted from sin and infidelity, let not the in- 
fidel invade the sacred precincts of your happy 
homes, nor your lives which God made happy. 

If I were a painter, I would paint my picture 
of an infidel in gloomy, dreary colors. I would 
pictvire hint in a desert where the character of 


CAIN. 


471 


virtue flees from him in fear. All is desolation 
about him and he is alone. I would paint a deep, 
dark, yawning abyss descending into Hell ! And 
I would picture him dreaming in darkness on its 
very verge. Then I would paint a grim, ghastly 
picture of Death rising from the gloomy abyss and 
laying his cold, icy hand upon the dreamer’s 
heart, then — ah, my brush would fall; I would 
shudder; I would refrain and close my eyes for- 
ever upon that terrible picture, for I am not the 
Eternal Judge! 

But I would trace with my pen under the 
gloom I had painted, these words: The Prince of 
Darkness I 

Leland Burnett then painted picture after pic- 
ture of brighter life and of heavenly things. His 
figures of speech were grand, his imagery sub- 
lime. And when he at last finished, he was com- 
plimented with a wild enthusiastic applause which 
continued for some time. 

His words were truth — the truth that has baf- 
fled the infidel in every course he tries to pursue. 
He presented few or no new phases of logic on 
the old, old subject of Christianity vs. Infidelity, 
for all the thoughts he presented have been 
brought to bear upon the infidel time and again; 
but a good thing can be repeated by some persons 
who put it in a clearer light than every one else 
together. So it was with Leland Burnett. His 
logic was absolutely convincing ; his imagery 
striking; his personal delivery peculiarly impres- 
sive; and his eloquence rich with the most sub- 


472 


CAIN. 


lime thoughts that ever fell from the pen or lips 
of mortal man. His argument was vividly con- 
vincing and impregnable to all infidelic powers 
to overthrow it. 

He quickly disappeared from the footlights, 
and he was seen no more. 

The crowded galleries were soon empty, and 
everybody went on their way to their homes re- 
joicing. 

That night as the old minister drove home he 
asked his foster-child: 

‘Are you glad that you went to hear Leland, 
my child?” 

‘T think I — I must be wicked, father, for I 
wish I had not gone,” and she hid her face against 
his shoulder. 

“Why are you sorry you went, Mamie?” he 
asked tenderly. 

“Because I love him, and yet I cannot keep it 
off my mind that he is a murderer.” 

The old man sighed, and was silent while they 
drove on to their home. 

It was only midnight, and the family residing 
in one part of the house had not retired, for the 
lights were burning. 

That night Mamie did not sleep till the distant 
rumbling of the freight train lulled her to repose. 

The following morning about ten o’clock a 
party of friends from Nashville and those Wash- 
ington friends whom she had seen at the theatre 
the previous night, “stormed” Mamie with their 
delightful presence. 

They had come to her and asked her and Mr. 


CAIN. 


473 


Homean to join them on a pleasure trip to the 
West — to ‘‘Gethsemane” ! This was a delightful 
surprise to Mamie, and Mr. Homean consented to 
go provided they would not stay more than two 
months. 

After a hearty dinner was disposed of, Mamie, 
with her foster-father, joined the merry ‘^party^’ 
with a heart overflowing with feelings of joy at 
the thought that she would soon see dear old 
‘^Gethsemane,’^ ^‘Lonely Vicinity,’’ and all that 
she loved and left long ago. 

Soon they were on their w'ay to the far West. 
But Leland was not there. 

His marked reticence was something strange to 
all except Mamie. She knew, ah, too well, why 
he was not present. He was too proud to intrude 
into Mamie’s presence. She had turned him away 
and he was struggling to conquer his unfortunate 
love. 

At last, after a quick, pleasant journey, they 
reached “Gethsemane.” Mamie wept as she be- 
held the magnificent building once more, and 
thought of all that she had learned and experi- 
enced when she lived there in the dreary long ago. 

It was a season of joy to all the party, and 
Mamie did all she could to make every one happy, 
which they all highly appreciated, for she was an 
excellent hostess and they honored her with such 
distinction. She was delightfully entertaining to 
all; for her strange, eventful, romantic life and 
her travels and experiences had taught her very 
much, and everybody delighted to listen to hei 
charming stories and narratives. 


474 


CAIN* 


During the day they took pleasure trips over 
the mountains to the various scenes of interest, 
and at night they assembled again at “Geth- 
semane,” and a pleasant ^^party” was given by the 
hostess. 


CAIN. 


476 


CHAPTEE XXXV. 

One evening Mamie held her social entertain- 
ment as usual, though she felt sad and not very 
well. 

Her many friends, who laughed and talked to 
the ‘^Rich Heiress of the Pagan King,” little 
dreamed that this was the last time that they 
would spend an evening with her. She laughed 
and talked with them more brilliantly than she 
ever had, and Lilian and Edward thought that 
her voice was richer and sweeter than ever as she 
sang the last song and rose from the piano. 

When the guests had all departed to the village 
that night Mamie sighed wearily and went to the 
window and looked out through the moonlight 
toward the Temple as of old. She had never vis- 
ited the Temple alone, and a peculiar impulse 
seized her to want to visit the lonely Temple alone 
to-night. The moonlight was fair, the night cool 
and tranquil, and she wanted to go there and pray 
for the man who built it. 

She drew a pretty shawl about her head and 
shoulders and wandered out through the fair 
moonlight. Soon she reached the Temple, entered 
it and lit the lamps and chandeliers in the chapel 
hall. She looked about the silent sanctuary and 
thought of the many Sunday-school services she 


476 


c a: I N . 


had attended there; then of when she learned the 
terrible life of Cain, the Vagabond of Nod. She 
brushed away the tears and knelt by the altar 
and prayed long and silently. 

When she rose she seated herself at the grand 
cathedral organ and played hymn after hymn she 
used to sing, and the grand music awoke slumber- 
ing echoes in the silent rooks of the dark moun- 
tain. 

And while she played her memory traveled back 
over all her eventful past. She looked over all 
her trials and sorrows and thought how abun- 
dantly God had blessed her life and Christian ef- 
forts. She looked grand, noble and beautiful in 
the brilliant splendor of the chandeliers, as she 
was dressed in a black satin dress, perfectly fit- 
ting, and in her rich brown hair glowed clusters 
of beautiful white lilies. Her face grew calm 
with mingled hopefulness, submissive patience, 
and strange repose. Over her daintily sculptured 
features stole an expression of perfect resignation 
as she rose from the organ, lifted her eyes toward 
her Maker, she folded her hands and said softly: 

^^Dear Lord, I have said in the language of Thy 
Holy Word that ^Mine heritage is unto me as a 
speckled bird; the birds round about are against 
her, but I can say with another of Thy servants, 
now that ‘The Lord hath blessed me hitherto’ 
and 

“And I have said that ‘My heritage is unto me 
as a roaring lion in the forest ; it crieth out 
against me; therefore have I hated it’.” 

The voice startled her and her hands fell as 
she beheld Leland Burnett standing near her. 


CAIN. 


477 


His face was pale, and there was a tremor in 
his voice as he looked pleadingly at her. 

She stood motionless, gazing up at him with 
bright, happy eyes. She faintly smiled and a 
blush crimsoned and burned on her fair cheeks, 
and with a thrilling trembling cry of gladness that 
told of a long-suppressed love she hid her face in 
her palms. 

He came closer, and his wonderful voice 
sounded strangely passionate as she had heard it 
in that church that memorable night. 

“Mamie, this is my last conquest: forgive all 
my wicked, sinful past; think of me now as a re- 
deemed child of God; come to me, give your pre- 
cious life to me, be my darling wife ; and love me 
without shame forever 

“Oh, Leland,^^ she said sobbingly, “will you 
forgive me?’^ 

“There is nothing to forgive, darling.^^ 

“But I have turned you away and called you a 
murderer 

“Which I was; which I am.” 

“And I have doubted and questioned your in- 
tegrity.” 

“All this I know; and yet I have always loved 
you, Mamie. Please do not rehearse any more of 
those painful memories. Throw the past behind 
us and contemplate the joys of the present and 
bright anticipations of the future. Mamie, do 
you think that my love which has lived through 
the fiery furnace of my stormy, burning life is 
worth anything in this world to you ?” 

She was silent. 

“If it is, come to me now.” 


478 


CAIN. 


She looked up at his brave, imperious, noble 
countenance, and thought of him in a different 
light to what she had always thought of him. 

This was the first time he had ever looked like 
a new king to her. This was the first time he 
had ever seemed so absolutely worthy, for murder 
had always seemed so horrible to her. 

‘‘^Come to your king, Mamie, for I am con- 
queror. As I said, this is my last conquest. You 
love me; can’t you trust me?” 

She bowed her head, leaned toward him, and as 
he took her in his extended arms and strained her 
to his heart, she whispered : 

‘^Oh, Leland, I am conquered at last. I trust 
you most fully.” 

While she nestled in his passionate embrace he 
told her how his heart ached when she had bit- 
terly scorned him ; how her pure life had helped 
to save his soul from ruin; how he had suffered 
since she had so cruelly turned him away when 
she fainted in his arms in frozen Iceland after 
he had helped to save her; how he had struggled 
with his passionate heart to stay from her since 
that time ; and how at last it had led him back to 
“G^thsemane,” where he knew she had come to 
visit and probably stay. 

He pressed his lips to hers and asked : 

‘^Mamie, can you tell me what is the sweetest 
expression I ever heard fall from your lips?” 

^^Yes,” she whispered softly. 

^‘Then repeat it.” 

H said once that I had fallen prostrate at the 
feet of a king, — that king was love, — that love 
was you.” 


CAIN 


479 


^And is it so still ?” 

'‘Yes, and will be forever.’’ 

"Mamie, I had just come from the village on 
my way to ‘Gethsemane,’ and as I came by this 
Temple I saw you enter it, light it up, kneel in 
prayer by the shining altar, and heard you play 
the grand old hymns of old on this organ; and as 
I watched you I was proud, ah, so proud of you. 
Somehow I felt that this was my last conquest. 
Now you will be my life-companion, and I thank 
God that He has answered the prayer that you 
heard me utter by the little spring. Ah ! yes, 
Mamie, I thank the dear Lord that He has given 
to me a princess, for you are a king’s daughter.” 

He bent his head and kissed her fair face once 
more. 

Mamie’s and Leland’s wedding ceremony was 
held in the church at Nashville. 

Mamie was a beautiful bride, as she wore a 
beautiful white satin dress, and her long trailing 
bridal veil was of tulle. Lilian was the head 
bridesmaid and Edward Linden the principal 
groomsman. 

As the bridal party entered the doors of the 
church the organist played a beautiful wedding- 
march; then, as the ceremony proceeded, the or- 
ganist changed to a low, subdued, and sweet ap- 
propriate melody. 

The building was full, save the front pews, 
which were reserved for the relatives and especial 
friends of the happy pair. 

The bridesmaids and groomsmen grouped them- 
selves at their respective positions; then, as the 
organ sounded low and sweet, the venerable old 


480 


CAIN. 


Mr. Homean, who was already at his place, at 
once commenced the ceremony; and as the solemn 
ceremony continued Mamie looked down, and each 
moment she leaned more and more upon Mr. Bur- 
nett’s arm. On the conclusion of the ceremony 
the newly-married couple and their attendants 
withdrew in much the same manner as on ad- 
vancing, and as the bridal party left the church 
the grand cathedral organ sounded loud and Jubi- 
lant. 

Leland Burnett and his happy bride boarded 
the train that evening, and enjoyed a delightful 
bridal tour, by way of St. Louis, Chicago and 
other points, to Washington, to a beautiful new 
home which he had purchased on Pennsylvania 
Avenue. There Mamie began a new life, which 
she found in after years to be the happiest part of 
her life. 

Soon after their return to Washington, Leland 
and Mamie were permitted to attend the quiet 
wedding of Edward Linden and Lilian Billion at 
the home of the bride. The wedding was delight- 
ful, and Mr. and Mrs. Billion were proud of the 
privilege to oifer their beautiful and accom- 
plished daughter to so worthy and noble a gentle- 
man as Mr. Linden. 

In the summer-time Leland Burnett and his 
happy wife resorted to the cool, quiet precincts of 
hidden “Gethsemane,” to enjoy its pure, delight- 
ful tranquillity and rare refreshing mountain air. 

The winter months they spent abroad or at their 
home in Washington. They visited their old 
Southern home on the banks of the Cumberland 


CAIN. 


481 


frequently, and Mr. Homean always,, of course, 
gave them a cheerful welcome. 

♦ He****** 

One bright, beautiful afternoon, warm with 
sunshine, Leland Burnett sat with his happy wife 
and beautiful two-year-old daughter on the sofa 
which had been drawn out on the veranda of 
‘^Gethsemane,^’ and they watched the glorious 
luminary of day paint the glowing western hori- 
zon with brilliant colors of crimson and gold as 
he sank in his pompous splendor. The glory of 
the dying day touched everything with consum- 
mate beauty. The beautiful, sloping valley in 
front of them looked like the dreamy vista lead- 
ing to a new, undiscovered paradise. The poly- 
style aisle of the deep forest glades filled with a 
golden haze something like the fabulous Golden 
Fleece, then turned to a crimson glow that was 
beautiful to behold. The forest colonnades stood 
like long rows of pillared Parthenons on each side 
of the shadowy road down through the valley. 
The valley reminded one of the beautiful roman- 
tic valley of Tempe in Thessaly between Mounts 
Olympia and Ossa, through which the Peneuse 
escapes into the sea. The lovely scenery of this 
glen was so charming that one wonders if the 
fabulous Apollo did not, in traditional days, cele- 
brate it as one of his favorite haunts. 

The mournful cooing of doves broke the solemn 
silence as the day died; and the cool shadow of 
approaching night crept softly over the dreamy 
valley of ^^Gethsemane.” 

Mamie Homean Billion kissed the pretty pout- 
ing lips of her sweet child and looked up into the 


482 


CAIN. 


face of her noble husband. Leland put his arm 
around Mamie and put his hand under her chin, 
drew her lips to his, and kissed them tenderly; 
then he drew her face to his bosom. 

^‘Darling, do you remember that once, in my 
sinful past, you told me that I was possessed with 
devils 

Mamie laughed softly and said: 

“You were then.” 

“Yes, you are right.” 

He waited a moment. 

“Do you think so still?” he asked. 

“Leland, why do you ask so simple a question ?” 
she asked petulantly, as she looked up at him with 
a sweet smile. 

“I was thinking that if I was then I might be 
now.” 

The pretty child nestled her golden curly head 
in her mother’s lap and fell asleep as Leland and 
Mamie talked on sweet and low of the grand old 
days of long ago. They were happy now. They 
loved their home; they loved God; they loved 
everybody; they loved their pretty babe; and they 
loved each other. Lilian Naomi, as they called 
their child, was the living picture of her mother 
in features; but she had beautiful sunny golden 
hair, deep, strangely passionate blue eyes and a 
bright cheerful face beaming with childish joy 
and innocency. They loved her as no other par- 
ents ever did; they thought they did. 

Mamie felt her husband’s arm tighten around 
her waist as he bowed his head to hers: 

“My darling, you forgave me my cruelty to 
you long ago. You were slow to yield your life 


CAIN. 


483 


to me; many a lonely hour I have longed and 
waited and hoped for you to come to me. I went 
to Iceland many times and looked yearningly and. 
fondly at you when you thought I was thousands 
of miles away from you. I was patient, and at 
last you came to me, and now I know this world 
holds no man so happy, so thankful, so proud as 
I am ! Mamie, my love for you is a love that is 
born of heaven, and I know I shall always love 
the pure noble girl who rescued me from a 
wretched and ruined life of infidelity and brought 
me to the feet of Jesus 

He tenderly kissed the pure lips of his beauti- 
ful wife and said : “Now say the words I love to 
hear you say.” 

“ H have fallen prostrate at the feet of a king — 
that king is Love — that Love is you V Leland, I 
love you.” Her voice was sweet and low. 

The light slowly faded in the west, and it was 
night. 

“That is it; I have always wanted to hear you 
say those words. Good-night.” 


THE END. 




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t 


¥ 



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I 


IAN 13 1906 






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